You don't need a (fucking) quirk
by Reformed37
Summary: Well, you don't need a quirk to fuck up, badly. Peer pressure brings Izuku to the breaking point and from there the only way is down, especially with a bit of help. But while finally giving up his lifetime goal seems to be the end of all his problems, it turns out to be the beginning of someone else's.
1. That's How You Get Paid

**That's how you get paid**

Idk why I'm doing this… I need to get this fucked up toxic crack plot out of my system, so we'll just see how things go, okay? For now it's only one chap, there may be another or there may be a few more, however my muse speaketh.

Before we begin, I must confess to you all that I am 'brand new' to this fandom, so if I'm messing it up _mea culpa_ , it's all a black sea of ignorance at work and I apologize for it beforehand.

* * *

The massive blond clears his throat – yet again – hands clasped together on the metal table in front of him, fingers twitching nervously under the numb, dull gaze of the boy seated across from him. Next to the blond, the police officer sits stiffly, scowling somewhat.

"Like I said, I didn't know. Your mother only told me the truth when you disappeared, six months ago. Because she was really desperate and didn't know what to do… I'm sorry if it's all so awkward. It's just… difficult for all of us."

Now someone might say that, for the number one hero, All Might is fucking this up pretty badly. But then again, the guy is good with his fists, so being suddenly slapped in the face with the news that he has a fifteen-year-old _quirkless_ and _delinquent_ son and being faced with said son for the first time inside a high-level security villain prison is probably not something he can deal with very well. And this is ironic in a sublimely fucked-up way, because Izuku has always dreamed of meeting All Might, he's had a million questions, not to mention… _his dad_?! But now, with G.A.F still active in his system, all he can think of is that it's _much too early_ for this shit.

"I can't help but feel responsible for the way things turned out," All Might says, shaking his head. "It's all my fault."

"It really isn't," Izuku replies absently, frowning slightly at his own hands. His wrists are restrained in a bulky metal contraption, because they still find it hard to believe that he's actually completely quirkless - after all, it's quite unusual in this day and age. His fingers are shaking a bit because he hasn't had a dose in more than 18 hours, and it's only gonna go downhill from here. If only they'd give him a smoke, at least.

"Yes, it really is!" the hero insists, shoulders hunching, and deflates.

He deflates _literally_ , blood spurting from his mouth and the muscular body seemingly imploding in itself and disappearing inside the striped brown suit, which ends up hanging loosely on a lanky, bone-skinny frame. However, the officer next to him is completely unfazed by the unexpected development and Izuku only blinks in surprise, his shock at the sight largely amortized by the drug-induced numbness which has become the _status quo_ as of late. All Might only sighs deeply, discreetly tapping his lips with a handkerchief before his bowed forehead meets the table surface with a light thud.

"Fucking depression day…" the boy mutters, leaning backwards in his seat. He's gonna be sick soon, it's only a matter of time.

"HEY! Watch your mouth, you mongrel!" the officer growls, slamming his palm over the thick folder in front of him. "Anyway," he goes on morosely, because his harsh reprimand has caused no reaction from the prisoner. "Let's start from the beginning. Tell me how you met Toga Himiko."

* * *

 _ **6 months earlier**_

" _I_ would _hand out these future career forms but_ … _I assume you_ all _want to be heroes…_ "

The noise of the unperturbed, steady traffic below only adds to the painful pressure inside his skull.

" _Don't you dare get into U.A., nerd!"_

To the cruel, unforgiving voices which just won't shut up, won't stop tormenting him.

" _He's so lame, he can't say anything!"_

He can't even cry, not anymore, that meager relief is no longer available. There are no more tears, he is completely _empty_ now and the hollow space inside his being is haunted by poisonous words. Still, the bridge railing is warm under his palms from the afternoon sun, reassuring. It's not _that_ hard. All he has to do is put one foot on the knee-high bar at the bottom, hoist himself up and straddle it. It's easy. Just one last effort and then-

" _If you think you'll have a quirk in your next life… go take a swan dive off the roof!"_

 _I'm sorry, Mom…_

Although, maybe she'll be relieved. Maybe she's been secretly disappointed too, all this time.

He kicks the school bag out of the way and grips the railing harder, ready to go through the planned motion, eyelids falling shut to shield him against the sight of the swarm below. It's not hard. He can do it. He has courage, if nothing else.

"You're having a bad day too, huh? Figures though, it's only fucking Tuesday."

Izuku's eyes snap open brusquely at the sound, body reeling with enough force to send him down on his back on the hard concrete. A blonde girl now stands nearby, observing him curiously. Her clothes and hair are messy and she has an empty spirit bottle in her hand.

"Were you gonna jump over just now?"

She doesn't sound concerned though, more like in need of some entertaining and right now just about anything will do.

"Uh…" The boy scrambles to his feet quickly, wide eyes trained on the strange apparition. Just where the hell did this girl come from? She looks kind of weird too… There's an unsettling look in her golden eyes and the school uniform she's wearing under an oversized brown sweater seems to be a mockery of the concept.

The blonde sighs, walking up until she almost invades his personal space. "Are you sure that's helpful? I think you'd only end up increasing the public cleaning expenses. Like that," she says, reaching out and letting the empty bottle drop over the railing. Izuku keeps his eyes on her face, because he doesn't want to see it smash against the concrete, or worse, on the hood or windshield of one of the passing cars.

"Anyway, I don't know what _your_ fucking problem is, but _I_ 'm down to my last joint and I can't pay this month's bills either. So help a girl, yeah?"

There's a sudden bright gleam as a large knife pops out of her sleeve and is pointed at the boy by calm, expert fingers. It's not a kitchen knife either, it looks professional, like a hunting or military knife. She's not the average psycho then - the student concludes thanks to his age-old habit to analyze details – more like a… villain? Still, Izuku doesn't move, barely flinches. _Looks like either way…_

"I'm sorry, I have no money," he whispers quietly, averting his gaze.

A moment of silence stretches, ominous, but then the knife is withdrawn. "Pfff, I didn't think you do," the girl says, rolling her eyes. "I just wanted to see if you're for real, fuck. Looks like you are…" She sighs again, fishing a (final) joint out of a loose pocket and lighting it. "I'm Himiko, by the way. Toga Himiko."

"Izuku." He shakes his head at the joint which is then offered to him. "I-I don't smoke-"

"But you're gonna die anyway, right? Might as well bank a few sins before you do," Himiko points with a grin, hand still outstretched. The smoke drifting from between her fingers is sweetish, like burned candy.

" _He's so lame, he can't say anything!"_

Eventually he takes it, acutely aware of the brief moment in which their fingers touch. The experimental drag chokes him, but the boy persists instinctively just because Himiko watches him, with a hint of amusement.

"So why the fuck do you wanna die, Izuku?" she asks, taking back the joint. "Aside from the fact that you're penniless."

"I'm quirkless."

The words slip unwillingly and it sounds more like a bad joke than ever. Why is he telling a stranger all this?! It's not like she really cares. But then again, it doesn't matter anymore, it doesn't matter if she laughs at him. "And everyone at school says I should just-…" Even _the teacher_. He hasn't _really_ said it, but the cruel, approving silence spoke volumes. "So I need to-…"

The blonde blows out some smoke pensively. "You need to get out of this life."

* * *

The next thing he knows is that they've ended up in a liquor store - but not how they got there from the bridge - and a blinding, violent wave of dizziness washes over him at each and every step. In stark contrast, Himiko looks perfectly coordinated and sure on her feet as she leads him down an empty aisle with a firm, predatory grip on his wrist.

"W-We can't be here, we're u-underage! They'll throw us out-" Izuku stutters, trying to resist, but his body doesn't obey anymore. Fleetingly, the realization that he no longer has his schoolbag registers in the back of his mind, but doesn't linger.

The comment only widens the blonde's smirk. "Nah, they won't. We're not here to _buy_ anything, after all."

"But-"

They make it to the counter upfront and the man behind it turns with a scowl undoubtedly aimed at their school uniforms, looks about to open his mouth, but Himiko beats him to it. In the blink of an eye, something black is pulled out of the loose pocket the joint came from earlier and deftly pressed in Izuku's right hand, just as her lips brush feather-soft against the shell of the boy's ear.

"This is how you get paid if you're quirkless…"

The metal of the gun is warm from her fingers and has a pleasant, grounding heaviness, prompting him to grip it steadily.

"Now mister, would you be so kind as to empty the cash register for us?" the blonde drawls out loud this time, sickly sweet. "Or else…"

The shock is evident on the man's face, quickly replaced by anger and he leans forward slightly, massive, intimidating. "YOU DAMN BRATS! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?! I'LL CALL THE POLICE!"

He hasn't noticed the gun yet.

Izuku flinches, partly sobered by the outburst, but it doesn't help much. He's suddenly in this mess and… and… he can't think at all. He wants to sleep so badly, but if he closes his eyes… something disastrous will happen. He clings to the gun in his hand for dear life and raises his arm, pointing it at the man's face. He can't let the guy make a wrong move, under no circumstances, it's too late now. The other's mood shifts rapidly at the sight, seeming to absorb the boy's own panic and uncertainty and gradually take them away.

This is _power_.

It's unfamiliar, frightening… but it feels good.


	2. Good As Fuck

_**Chapter 2 – Good As Fuck**_

Thank you all for the amazing feedback and appreciation, all the comments and reviews – it really means a lot to me! So, I've got a new chap for you today and the only way is down… Y'all been warned. This chapter is much darker than the first.

* * *

"So that's how we got together." The tremor of his fingers has gotten worse, slowly but surely spreading upwards into his forearms. The only thing he can do is to try to ignore it as he grips his hands together, staring blankly at the oily sheen forming in the officer's cup of cheap machine coffee. "Himiko reached out and... dragged me back. I know it looks like she only meant to use me, but…"

They wouldn't understand anyway.

* * *

Afterwards, Izuku sleeps for almost two days, the tension and fatigue of the last hours eventually having hit like a ton of bricks. He wakes up to gentle fingers in his hair and the sight of a room he doesn't know. The gun is gone and so is his uniform jacket, but the phone is still in his back pocket, the screen full of missed call notifications.

"Damn, kid, you only had _one_ smoke."

The student momentarily ignores Himiko, sitting up abruptly and proceeding to stare at the phone in his hand. His mom must be worried sick! He should go home-… wait, no. They robbed a store, so he can't go home! He has absolutely no idea what he should do, but even so-

"I-I'm sorry, I have to go," the boy stutters, pulling away and trying to scramble towards the door. "I think…" Only he doesn't. He still can't think, this time because of the overwhelming panic. God, he's never been in so much trouble! And as usual, he can't even find his words!

" _He's so lame, he can't say anything!"_

They were right. They were damn right about everything.

"Awww, but I thought you liked me," the blonde pouts in reply with feigned disappointment and mirth obvious in her golden eyes.

Izuku blinks, trying to figure out of what she means. But he's not good with subtleties, not to mention completely clueless when it comes to girls. "B-But I can't stay here! I mean-…" _With you._ But wait, is that what she's even asking?!

"You can do whatever the fuck you want now. You're a dead man, remember?" Himiko leans in with the same self-assuredness which is seemingly present in everything she does and cups the side of his face with one hand, slowly, rubbing her thumb lazily over the boy's freckles.

"Let me give you the good stuff, you've earned it."

The words alone short-circuit Izuku's brain even before the blonde's lips brush lightly against his mouth, drinking in his shocked gasp, and he is not fully aware of how _that_ actually feels.

Sure, this is an incredible occurrence in itself, but the 'good stuff' Himiko was actually referring to turns out to be _way better_ than the semi-platonic teasing. It's called G.A.F (literally short for 'Good As Fuck') and it comes in nicely colored, non-reusable plastic vials equipped with a needle on one end and a tiny rubber button on the other. Extremely easy to use too, as the blonde demonstrates, pushing his sleeve up and pressing the miniscule needle into his forearm. It barely pricks, but the effect is almost instantaneous and all-powerful. Muscles relax, worries dissipate, all problems fly out the window.

Nothing hurts anymore.

* * *

Later that night, when they go out to get some takeout food, he dumps his phone into a trash can.

He does realize he's making a mistake, but then again Izuku _is_ a mistake, his whole _being here_ is wrong on principle. That's why his mother kept apologizing – to him, to the doctor, to the neighbors. She felt that she fucked up, instead of having a normal child. Maybe that's why his father never came back, never bothered to come meet him.

But is all fine now.

He's wearing Himiko's ripped jeans (which fit him better than they do her because 'fuck, I just can't diet long enough'), his white uniform shirt hanging loose and all creased on top and he's let her tame his curls somewhat, with a handful of hair gel. When her mood (and money) is low, Himiko herself is unkempt as fuck, too depressed to even try, but when in high spirits she becomes one hell of a doll, turning more than a few heads. But as they walk down the street the blonde holds _his_ hand in hers, another thing that's unfamiliar but incredibly comforting, just like holding the gun.

Himiko is not quirkless, but her quirk – being able to imitate the appearance of someone if she's drunk their blood – is seemingly pretty much useless when it comes to making money and it 'triggers' her more often than not, so she usually avoids using it. Still, bills are a constant struggle since she lives alone and G.A.F only counts as daily maintenance, to 'keep things afloat' as she puts it. Joints, crack, vodka and JD come extra and they're an important indulgence – when there's cash for them, like now.

Today deserves a celebration and the blonde knows an underground club where the bouncers don't ask for IDs at the door (not that anyone actually needs to see an ID to tell that Izuku is underage). Staring around in awe, he spots a few older kids from his school slumped around a table filled with empty shot glasses, but it's unlikely they'd recognize him even sober. Eh, fuck them anyway.

For a dead man, Izuku feels more alive than ever as vodka burns a fiery trail down his throat and Himiko pulls him to the dance floor. The high has loosened him up enough that their moves sync with ease and it's like he's always had this gorgeous girl's arms around his neck.

* * *

The next few days pass in an intoxicated haze, both of them lazing around in the blonde's apartment and up on the roof, enjoying the gentle autumn sun. ' _From now on I'll be like your big sister or something_ ' Himiko declares grinning, which would make sense – she's a few years older after all – if not for the vaguely _incestuous_ flavor of their budding relationship slightly contradicting that statement. Because the student is pretty sure that siblings do not blow joint smoke in each other's mouth or kiss with tongue. It doesn't get any further than that though, because ' _you're too pure, Izuku. I don't want to mess you up_ '.

He doesn't mind, not even that Himiko dates other men. But when _it_ happens the first time, it's really bad.

It's past midnight and Izuku has passed out with the TV still on, when a loud noise wakes him abruptly. Was it a scream?! He makes an effort to disentangle from the futon sheets and crawl to the door on all fours, listening intently. The noise comes again, muffled this time, but now it's certain he's not imagining things. The boy gets up on his feet and creeps out of the bedroom to peer towards the living. He takes one step, then another-

The living door opens slowly, revealing a disheveled Himiko, barely dressed in a tight miniskirt and a see-through lacy white bra, stained with blood just like her face and hands. There's some in her loose hair too and behind her hell reigns, a mangled corpse lying twisted in the middle of the crimson-toned nightmare.

Izuku's drug-numbed brain doesn't react at first, but his stomach does instantly, forcing him to make a beeline for the bathroom.

"You know, every single time I tell myself… this is going to work, he's the one. He's gonna treat me well, he won't take me for granted, he won't try to trample all over me like the others," Himiko says, lighting up a joint and leaning against the bathroom doorframe. "But then I'm always wrong. I probably have a really bad hand at picking them… fuck."

With a sigh, she steps over to where Izuku is now sitting slumped with his back against the bathtub, his head tilted backwards over the edge. He's still sick and horribly dizzy.

"And so it ends. The only thing I can do is to at least make sure I'm the last person they've hurt."

Eyes closed, the boy reaches out instinctively, cold fingers meeting his. "D-Did he… hurt you?"

"Eh… nothing I can't patch up…" The blonde's hand squeezes his, thumb rubbing over his knuckles. "I need your help, Izuku."

* * *

Some three hours later it's all over and Izuku can finally lie back in the futon he shares with Himiko and her knife. He's exhausted, aching all over from the effort and in desperate need to just sleep and forget everything. Cleaning up was horrible and now they'll need a new carpet too, because the old one was used to wrap the body in. As they painfully carried it down the stairs and through back alleys to a dumpster some two blocks away he kept telling himself it's not real.

It can't be, because he's not feeling anything, he just can't bring himself to give a fuck about the man Himiko killed. He's too numb and that's just perfect.

"Hey…" He's curled up on one side under the sheets and Himiko is snuggled against his bare back, only a thin fabric between their bodies. "Are you okay?"

"…yeah," the boy breathes out sleepily, as the blonde's fingers rest on his upper arm, lightly drawing circles there.

"Izuku, are you afraid?" she asks calmly. The now clean knife is under her pillow, as usual. It would be very easy for her to-

"…no." He's completely honest, too. He's a dead man anyway and he's convinced Himiko would do a swift job too, she wouldn't torment him. No, Himiko will never cause him pain. "I trust you."

Behind him, the blonde snorts, nuzzling her nose in the nape of his neck. " _Trust me_? How can you trust me after this?"

"I just trust that whatever you decide will be for the best, even if you kill me. You're the only who never hurt me."

For a long moment she remains completely silent, only pressing closer. "I'm really sorry. But now you know why."

"Why what?"

"… why we don't fuck. I don't want it to end like that, you're too precious to me."

* * *

Izuku raises his head and briefly meets All Might's gaze across the table, dark, sunken and unreadable. As the drug is finally wearing off, the large green eyes fill with tears he can't wipe off. The only thing he can do is clench his left hand over his right, in a futile attempt to protect the four letters tattooed his knuckles – the only memory of what he's lost.

Himiko Toga.


	3. I trust you too

_**I trust you too**_

Okay so… I'm quite overwhelmed right now, in all honesty I didn't think this story would be so successful. I am so grateful to all of you! I'm sorry I can't actually keep an update schedule but I work a 12h/day job and my writing time (and free time in general) is very limited – but I shall do my best to follow through with his plot.

I read a WONDERFUL fic recently (see link below) and due to that I have decided – MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD! – that at least two people will die by the end of this. Oh, and this chapter is also kind of disturbing... y'all have been warned.

Fic: Call-Me-Deku by AnimeFanGirl2223

* * *

Izuku has never ridden a motorbike before, not even as a passenger.

However, now he's researched it online and memorized the starting steps and a few other useful tips and tricks - after all, he does have a brilliant mind, if nothing else. The idea arose when Himiko jokingly suggested stealing a pizza delivery scooter for a double advantage, but when it actually comes to it, the boy happens to stumble onto something _much_ better. It's a shiny black _Kawasaki Versys – X_ , owned by some big-muscle dumbass who thinks leaving the key in the ignition as he dismounts and walks into a nearby store is a good idea.

Izuku nearly facepalms at the sight, shaking his head with a sigh.

Yep, he was right about it. It's far from being a philosophy - more an issue of balance an average bike rider can overcome relatively easy - especially while high on G.A.F. His hands grip the handlebars steadily as he straddles the smooth black leather seat in one fluid motion and he turns the forgotten key in the ignition, a smirk widening on his face as he does so. The dumbass has taken the helmet with him for some unknown reason, but fuck it.

Fuck all the rules of this fucking world.

The engine roars to life, wild and unrestrained, sending a pleasant shudder down the teen's spine, prompting him to kick the bike into gear. What follows is an incredible feeling of freedom and exhilaration as the wind rushes through his hair and around his face and he speeds up, heedless of the stares of the passers-by, ensuing car honking and the street security cameras which are sure to catch him. It doesn't matter though, they'll get rid of it fast enough. As much as he'd like to keep it, Izuku is just too young to be allowed to ride such a beast alone and the blonde isn't game for it either.

Speaking of, Himiko is waiting in a back alley, smoking a joint and scrolling lazily on her phone. She only offers a small smile to her little protégée at the sight of his 'spoils of war', jumping down from the pile of crates and walking over with a hand on her hip.

"What? That guy from the warehouse said we can bring him anything as long as it's in good shape and he'll pay up," the student points.

"You need a license to ride an engine like this, smartass," Himiko deadpans, crossing her arms.

"Really?" Izuku feigns innocence, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Really." The blonde shakes her head, plucking the designer shades from her hair and pushing them up on the boy's nose. "Your face showed up in the news, you smol villain, you. Now let's get rid of the license plate."

* * *

As it turns out, the ever practical Himiko does have a way of 'upping their game' when it comes to business – which has become necessary - but as that too is costly it's kind of a vicious circle. However, the blonde decides that the cash they now get on the motorbike qualifies for that sort of investment. Because – she explains – that half-assed stunt might have worked with the liquor store guy, since herself and someone with Izuku's childish and utterly harmless appearance are easily underestimated by salesmen and security agents, but since they're not planning on actually using the gun if shit hits the fan (which can very well happen one day), they need some other means to make an impact. Gunning someone down in the open is (sadly) not an option.

"What can I say, this shit doesn't exactly turn you into All Might, but fuck, you don't need to flatten half the city for a couple of bucks," the blonde states, leading the way down some worn steps, towards the entrance of a shady basement-level bar.

The inside is dark save for the red and yellow lights embedded in the wall behind the counter and since it's not even lunch time the place is empty too except for the bartender and a lone guy hunched over with his back to the door.

"These guys call themselves _The League of Villains_ and they want to take over the world or some other comic book-inspired crap," Himiko explains in a hushed tone. "They had a mystery guy at the top who was both mentor and sponsor and he was super-powerful and shit, but he was busted a short while ago so now they're in dire need of funds… Anyway, the skinny one at the bar is Shigaraki, our supplier. The other one, the bartender, is Kurogiri. "

The bartender's head is like a yellow-eyed column of purplish-dark smoke and the hands diligently wiping shot glasses seem to be made of the same material, but while he certainly is striking, his appearance is nowhere near as horrible as that of the more human-looking person hunched in front of him, nursing a whiskey glass. While he's wearing just a simple blue tee and worn black jeans, the outfit is sinisterly 'accessorized' with several grey, severed hands which grip the man's arms, neck and face. The worst thing is that those hands really look like they'd been originally attached to a body.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Izuku wonders, stomach cringing at the sight.

"Dunno, I'm his client not his therapist," the blonde answers. "Maybe he likes hands or something."

"Like… a hand kink?"

"Maybe he just likes to be groped…"

For some reason, Izuku can't take his eyes off the young, grey-haired villain, and remains rooted in place as Himiko walks up to the bar to talk to him. The man turns around, his face mostly concealed by the large hand gripping it tightly, his only seeing eye instantly focusing on the boy. Then the villain slips off his chair and saunters closer with slow, feline movements.

"I must increase the price because I've got some complaints, you see. Apparently, the product is not only ineffective for people with strong quirks, but it appears to even inhibit their quirk, the only happy customers were those with weak or useless quirks, like yours. That substantially diminishes the market for it, as I'm sure you understand," Shigaraki says, advancing until he stands right in front of the boy, towering over his smaller frame. "Now the question is, what is _your_ quirk?"

"I… I-I don't have one," the teen stutters, already numb with horror even before the other reaches out and presses a thin, clammy hand onto the side of his neck.

"Ah! Is that so?!" Shigaraki steps behind him smoothly, bringing his other hand to the boy's neck as well and using one thumb to tilt his head to the side slightly. "I have a disintegrating quirk myself. See, everything I touch just… _unravels_ and it is particularly gruesome when it comes to flesh," he chuckles softly. "But do tell me, what else is so _perfectly_ wrong with you?"

His body presses into Izuku teasingly, pulling him closer, but absolutely nothing compares to the feeling of those corpse-like hands. With each passing second Izuku feels like they're melting into his own skin, becoming one with his flesh, such that he'll never be free of them. Even if they're not applying as much as the slightest pressure, he's suffocating, paralyzed with fear, heart pounding madly in his chest.

Maybe his time to kick the bucket has finally come.

"Consent, Shigaraki, consent," Himiko warns from the bar, wiggling her index finger.

"Oh, I know he wants it…" the villain replies playfully. Still, those horrible hands finally leave the boy's neck, one resting lightly onto his shoulder while the index finger of the other twists around one of Izuku's curly strands.

"You know what, this has become a sad cliché," the blonde states, perching on a stool and motioning to the bartender. "You go to a bar and first thing you know some creep who looks like he's been pulled out of a rat's ass walks up to you and says 'I know you want me'… Seriously, for fuck's sake!"

"I know, right? And they're not even offering to buy you a drink," Kurogiri adds amused, filling up a shot glass for her.

"Fuck you both for ganging up on me," Shigaraki mutters, leading the teen to a seat. "Sorry kid, I was only messing with you but you're just too cute," he adds with a barely visible grin of cracked lips. "Here, have a drink and relax a little."

The villain then walks behind the counter and pulls out a small metallic case, flicking the lid up. Inside, set neatly in Styrofoam bedding are six doses of iridescent liquid, slightly larger than the G.A.F vials, but similarly equipped.

"That's the latest formula, developed by the Master before… well," Shigaraki explains, briefly reaching up to caress the dead hand gripping his face lightly with his fingertips. "We already know it works for you, Himiko, but for our little quirkless friend here it should fucking work _wonders_. Just as easy to use as before, minimal discomfort…"

Izuku can't really follow the rest of the conversation, the vodka shot he's downed with a shaky hand violently burning all the way into the pit of his stomach and making him choke while it does nothing for that horrible feeling which still lingers on his skin like a ghostly touch. Since G.A.F usually renders him reassuringly insensitive to most things, this is all the scarier now.

* * *

The dreadful sensation – and it has now moved past mere fear into a far deeper-seated terror and almost like a premonition that something really, really bad is going to happen to him – haunts Izuku into the small hours of the morning, waking him up with a start. He's panting, drenched in a cold sweat and his own hands now clutching at his neck as he trembles, staring wide-eyed into the empty darkness of the bedroom. He must have screamed too, because behind him Himiko stirs with a groan, eventually sitting up as well.

"Hey…" she whispers softly, reaching out to stroke the nape of his neck.

Izuku leans back into her touch, grateful for the comfort of her warm fingers, but he still can't stop shaking. "I-I thought he was going to kill me," he breathes out mindlessly. But what he really means is ' _I think he's going to kill me_ '. Not the grey-haired villain per say, but _those dead hands_ , there's something with them, someone else's will who controls everything, maybe the _Master_ Shigaraki was speaking of and he's _in_ those hands which keep the young man prisoner, make him into a puppet.

Or maybe he's just going mad.

"Ugh, fuck Shigaraki and his gay shit!" the blonde grumbles with a deep sigh, pulling him back down into the tangled sheets. "I'm sorry, Izuku," she adds, stroking his hair gently. "I won't let anyone touch you ever again. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

The teen sniffs quietly, trying to relax. "I just… I wish I could forget how I felt when-…"

"Shhhh… I'll make you forget. You trust me, don't you?"

He nods lightly, eyes closing as Himiko's hand trails lightly from the side of his face down his neck and collarbone, then further down his bare torso, warm against his cooling skin, ever so soothing.

"Keep your eyes closed," the blonde whispers, fabric swishing next to his ear. He knows she's pulled out the knife from under her pillow, but it's fine, it's-

A loud gasp is forced past the teen's lips when that teasing hand now slips determinedly past the waistband of his sweatpants, closing around him, such that he doesn't even feel the sharp blade pressing into the skin of his chest. It only starts to sting when Himiko eventually replaces it with her tongue and begins to work her mouth on the wound, but _the rest_ feels so good it very soon drowns anything else. There's something beyond skill in that touch on his hot, hardened, wanton body, it's possession, it's _love_.

The blonde's grin hovers above him as Izuku comes down from his high and opens his eyes, the knife twirled playfully between her fingers as she's leaning forward on her elbows.

"Now wasn't _that_ a little one sided?" Himiko asks, claiming his lips briefly as he's still panting a bit. "Your turn," she says, pointing the handle of the knife at him.

"W-What…?"

"It's okay, I trust you too."


	4. You can't fight

_**You can**_ _ **'t fight**_

Hello everyone! *screams internally and is floored and eternally grateful for how popular this awful angsty shit has turned out to be*. Time to bring on some more action ;)

But before that let me just say this – while I do understand that Bakugo (Bakugou?) is not really evil (just constantly PMS-ing) and has solid reasons for being a shit (among other things he's still a child with a faulty upbringing his parents still don't take responsibility for to this day and age but instead are expecting his UA teachers to fix), he is a shit regardless and that's why he's getting _this_. Because karma is a bitch.

* * *

"So this… _Product X_ as the black market calls it," the officer inquires, leafing through the file and extracting a report of sorts, "How does it work exactly? Does it enhance quirks? Does it give one a better quirk, or…?"

The change of subject offers Izuku something to focus on and thus a momentary reprieve from the emotional and physical onslaught which comes with the drug withdrawal. He used to study in great detail this stuff about quirks and fights, it was something he was quite passionate about analyzing back when-… well, in that _other_ life which was destroyed just like his then-precious notebook.

 _But fuck all that._

"It's not a quirk at all," he explains, and back then he was actually relieved to hear it, because he was really so fucking sick of all this quirk talk. "That's why it doesn't work out for those with powerful quirks, because they're too caught up in their natural reflexes to use their quirk and nothing else. Also, _Product X_ gives you superior physical strength, but you can't do much if you have great power but zero skills, so it also has an embedded 'computer software' component. It sort of 'uploads' a program in your brain and suddenly you have a solid fighting technique."

The boy pauses, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue and staring pensively at his shaky hands. The tattooed fingers of his right one are still a little crooked and he can remember that awful pain even G.A.F was useless against.

"Of course, _I_ wouldn't know what having a quirk feels like, but it must be something… that it's not like up for fifteen minutes and then you go on dead battery."

* * *

"Watch this," Himiko says, lunging forward and before his widened eyes her body twists in the air as the blonde kicks a trash can, the fairly large and heavy object being sent flying some fifty feet and then crashing violently against a concrete wall. "Pretty cool, huh?"

"Wow… i-it's amazing! You're probably as strong as a pro hero now! With this we could-…"

But the blonde shakes her head with a small sigh, shrugging in the oversized blazer. "Yeah, you could say it's really orgasmic. As in 'great but it doesn't last', that's why Shigaraki has a big problem with its marketability. It didn't work on his strong customers and many of his weak customers got their sorry asses busted because they got carried away and forgot about this tiny drawback. You have to think things through before using it on a hit and fuck, I would never trade actual weapons for it, it's essentially a _side_ solution."

Upon closer analysis, _Product X_ is slightly overrated (and clearly overpriced). It still takes some practice to get used to it and the top 'running' time is apparently twenty minutes at most, going down the more unfit one's body is and the dosage can be a problem too – inject more than one dose at a time and heart failure is almost guaranteed. At the first try and on half a dose Izuku can go on full power a little over ten minutes before the 'dead battery' phase hits without any warning and when it does it's hella ugly – a blinding wave of nausea washes over him, causing the boy to collapse on the ground face first, after which he's out cold for two hours.

The second round of practice goes a little better – almost fifteen minutes on full dose – and with some results too.

"This guy's got everything we need," Himiko says, glancing up the fire escape staircase. "And I don't suppose robbing someone like him counts as a hit either, not like he's gonna call the police on us. Pity, because I feel it's gonna be _good_ ," she reflects with a grin.

The target is a drug dealer the creepy _Product X_ supplier has tipped them to on a 50% clause because the guy has a respectable daytime job in a corporation and for some reason thinks _that_ makes it okay not to pay Shigaraki's bill. Thus, he's not only an amateur, he's an idiot too.

"Remember, keep a clear head," she tells the boy. "He's got a small crew, only three men and they probably suck hardcore but they're all armed, so we need to be very careful."

The two teens slip soundlessly into the tiny but fancily decorated apartment through an open window and knock out two of the gangsters before they know what hit them, collecting their guns and all the cash and merchandise carelessly lying around. The boss and the other one are not home, so the League's 'message' doesn't get delivered, but Himiko's disappointment is somewhat appeased by the thought of those two muscle-packed dumbasses having to explain to their boss how they were taken out by two kids and by picking up some car keys which turn out to belong to an inconspicuous black Honda CRV which has seen better days.

"And don't _you_ need a license to drive this?" the student raises an eyebrow as the blonde leads him to it, arms draped around his shoulders affectionately. They really shouldn't be that cheerful just yet, but the rush of adrenaline has left them both a bit lightheaded.

"Oh yeah, so if I get pulled over we are fucked," Himiko drawls, eyes widening comically and lips stretching into a devious smirk. " _Hard and without a condom_."

"Really?"

"I'm serious, Izuku, don't laugh. Now get in."

Something that qualifies the blonde as a full-fledged villain maybe even more legit than the stuff she's done is the mindset she shares with the _League of Villains_ – namely that the more impressive your official criminal record is the more solid your reputation in the world. That is actually rather worrisome and Izuku himself is aware that his mother has filed a missing persons report shortly after his disappearance (which was quite a while ago) and since then he must have been caught on a least a dozen surveillance cameras doing various shit, but it's a thought he chooses to successfully ignore most of the time with the help of the artificial bliss inducers they're never short of. Besides, he's in good hands so he doesn't really think police will get them anytime soon, and life with Himiko is entertaining enough not to allow the boy to dwell on any depressive shit.

The faint tingling he can still feel in his arm from driving his fist into that brute's jaw earlier is so exhilarating and he doesn't want to lose that feeling.

"I guess this went well," Izuku observes, stretching lazily against the backrest of the passenger seat and fishing a joint out of his back pocket. "But I'm sure Shigaraki could have dealt with him personally and taken everything for himself, don't you think?"

"Nah, this asshole's too small a fry for the League. Besides, Shigaraki is a very powerful guy," Himiko replies. "For real, he could fucking move mountains but what he _can't_ move most of the time is his ass from the couch and that's why he needs others to do his dirty work. Not to mention, with the fucked up way he looks there are probably ten pro heroes on his back the very moment he sets foot out of that shithole bar - because Heaven forbid he'd make an effort to look normal – so whenever he does it better be worthwhile…"

* * *

The late afternoon air is still warm and the empty street is reassuringly quiet, so they pull over in front of a coffee vending machine and the student gets out to get some because they still have stuff to do before the day is over and Izuku for one can barely keep his eyes open. And then, just as he's digging for change in his pocket, shit happens (because things have been all sunshine and unicorns in his life for too long as of late and it just _had_ to!)

" _DEKU!? YOU FUCKING SHITTY NERD!"_

Izuku scowls at the noise – because that's all there is to it now - sighing deeply before he turns towards the approaching source. Sure enough, a certain red-eyed blond is stomping towards him with gritted teeth and clenched fists, looking ready to rip him to shreds (what else is new).

"Just where the fuck have you been all this time?!" Bakugo halts his steps, angrily taking in the other boy's gel-smoothed hair, loose shirt and baggy jeans pooling over the trademark red sneakers. "And why the fuck do you look like a thug now?!" he demands, painfully unaware that his childhood 'friend' has no desire to put up with his shit a second longer.

"Why don't you just fuck off, Kacchan?" Izuku mutters, gracing the other with a bored expression. The blond is donning a brand new U.A. uniform, but it's still a _school_ uniform, something which could only be impressive for a smaller child.

"I asked _where the fuck have you been_ , Deku, you shit! Your mother's been worried sick-"

Now, that's a good one.

"Yeah? You talked to my Mom?" The smaller boy takes a step forward, snorting and nodding slowly. "Did you tell her about the piece of advice you gave me that day? How I'd be better off taking a swan dive off the roof?"

Izuku should be angry, maybe deep down he still is, but the G.A.F effectively keeps his temper in check, soothing his emotions. As such, he's now simply making a point, without any expectations. What the fuck could anyone hope to get out of this anyway? Some awkward apology? Fat chance anyone could _ever_ take Kacchan on a guilt trip and even if that were possible, he just doesn't care anymore.

"…what?! I never said that, you dumbass! Did you fucking hit your head or something? What the fuck happened to you anyway?!"

Izuku blinks, taken aback by the reply, but when the other lunges forward to grab him his hands move on reflex, drawing the guns tucked under the back of his shirt and pointing them at the blond.

"I can't fucking believe this! You don't even _remember_!" he breathes out, voice cracking slightly. "You're such a shit that you go throwing horribly mean things around and you don't even know what the fuck you're saying?! Huh?! Just what the fuck is your problem anyway?!"

But Bakugo is silent now, petrified, eyes wide and trained on the twin muzzles held in his face as if he's hypnotized by them. For the first time in his life, he looks truly _scared,_ it's a deep, visceral fear the other boy can almost smell. Which is surprising, because Izuku was almost sure he'd get a full blast in his face, especially at such a close range, but Bakugo doesn't fight back, he doesn't move, almost doesn't breathe either, simply staring in horror. On top of that, his karma has decided to be a motherfucking bitch such that _absolutely nothing_ happens, no pro hero shows up to save him, there's not even a passer-by who can call the police, he's simply fucked with capital F.

"This is anticlimactic," the green-haired boy observes dryly, mouth pursing in baffled disappointment. "What's the matter, you can't crush me now? You can't fight? Is this how you're gonna be a hero? Look at you, pissing your pants because a quirkless little shit like me puts a gun in your face… Is this how you're gonna surpass All Might? Huh?!"

Still, there's no smugness in his tone, just endless disgust, including with himself. Just _what the fuck_ has he been looking up to all these fucking years?! Fuck, was he a dumb shit! He deserved being called Deku!

"Hey, hey, hey, easy now." Himiko's hand tugs at his hair, pulling him back gently as she leans in to kiss the side of his neck. "You don't have to be so mean, Izuku. If the kid dreams of being a hero and all he wants in life is a shitty government-subsidized paycheck like ten years from now, who are you to stand in his way?"

"Right…"

For all the burn marks on his body, Izuku turns on his heels and walks away without as much as touching his old bully.


	5. Badly wanted

_**Badly wanted**_

OMG you guys I'm so excited for this – in this chapter shit IS TOTALLY GONNA HIT THE FAN and someone will fly through a shop window (bc shitty spoilers)! Again, thank you all so much for the support, it means a lot to me!

* * *

The (breakthrough) episode with Kacchan fades in the background fairly quickly with the new agenda Himiko and Izuku are pursuing.

Shitty side effects aside, _Product X_ does give one hell of a boost to their 'business' and in the following month they have three very successful operations, especially the third one when they hit a small niche jeweler and rob him blind. Izuku has never seen so much money in his life, yet it is only when the blonde tells him that none of this would have been possible without his help that he feels truly on top of the world.

But if the third time's the charm, the fourth is the _mother_ of all fuck-ups.

For some mysterious reason – or maybe just nostalgia? - Himiko has a thing for liquor stores, the cheaper the better. That makes them a really unprofitable endeavor, the risk is totally not worth it and just one _Product X_ dose is more expensive than what can usually be shaken out of the cash register. Still, given their history together, Izuku thinks this is quite romantic on some level and he's hands down in for the thrills and that exhilarating feel of _sheer power_ which comes with committing armed robbery anyway, he doesn't really care about gain.

It is early on a Saturday morning when the blonde decides it on a whim so they head to a little store not far from their own neighborhood. The scene looks rather disappointing at the first sight and the non-descript middle aged woman who sits bored behind the counter reading a magazine doesn't even spare them one glance as the two teens walk in, black caps and shades on and guns at the ready in their jacket pockets.

"Oh man, this place is so shitty _it hurts_ ," Himiko whines not five minutes into it, picking up an unknown brand on vodka which is so fucking cheap it must be a counterfeit. "You know what, fuck it. Let's just go home, Izuku."

"You sure?" the boy hums indifferently.

"Yeah, I'm seriously getting a fucking hangover just by looking at this stuff. Like, take one swig of it and you drop dead or something, geez…" She puts the bottle back on the shelf with a disgusted grimace.

Izuku shrugs, taking off his cap and running a hand through his ruffled hair as he stifles a yawn. Maybe they could go kick some more trashcans before the dose wears off? That'd be fun.

And then shit happens. Just as they head towards the door, it opens widely and Endeavor walks in.

The pro hero is off duty, donning some worn jeans and a shirt which has seen better days, but his fiery red hair and overall bone-chilling expression are unmistakable. Also, the man is absolutely _huge_ , Izuku has only seen him on TV before and while that was certainly impressive now from up close he's downright scary and _why the fuckest fuck is he here, God?!_

Suddenly, there's a pressing need for them to get out of there, because Enji Todoroki looks even more pissed than usual and he's not known for being particularly nice with the public anyway so they might be in for some shit just by default. Himiko too panics, uncharacteristically, and she's in such a rush that she actually trips over her own feet, landing hard on her knees, the impact causing the gun to slip from her pocket and drop onto the tiled floor with a startling clatter.

The noise instantly alerts the pro hero, who despite his massive size wheels around at lightning speed, his eyes fixating on the discarded gun before the two teens can even _think_ of moving. Izuku watches in frozen terror as the man's arm shoots forward, grabbing Himiko while he is growling something the boy's fright-numbed brain is entirely unable to process.

" _IZUKU! HIT HIM!"_ she cries and he's hardly aware of _what exactly_ happensnext,or _how._

His body acts with a will of its own, the mental programming within _Product X_ taking control and making him lunge forward with a high jump, his right fist driving itself with full force into Todoroki's exposed stomach. It feels almost like hitting a fucking brick wall and excruciating pain flashes through his fist and shoots up his arm, instantly drawing out tears, but it's (surprisingly) effective.

Endeavor is actually sent flying backwards, the shock of the attack making him release the blonde, and the dreadful noise and sight of him falling through one of the window shops has a brutally sobering effect. Before their opponent can pick himself up from the mess (and probably _fucking kill them_ by the look on his face!) Izuku grabs Himiko with his good hand and they dash from the shop at the top speed the drug offers their bodies, making themselves scarce into a back alley.

And then everything goes black.

* * *

"Ahhh, my children, daddy is SOOOOO proud of you! For once I really enjoyed watching the fucking news!"

Izuku's eyes finally blink open at the sound of that dreadfully familiar voice, to find Shigaraki's scarred and crack-lipped face - now free of that grey hand pressed over it but no less horrid to behold because of that - hovering above him with a sinister smirk as the boy is lying stretched on a medical table of sorts and a masked medic is working on his arm.

"That fire asshole flying through the shop window was fucking epic, the surveillance cameras across the street captured it just right," the villain says excitedly before he sighs, his smile fading. "Still… you damn brats just got lucky with this shit, I hope you realize that."

"What?" Himiko's voice comes as she steps forward to grab Izuku's uninjured hand and rub her thumb soothingly over his knuckles.

"You twats, I know my product is good, but I didn't say you could take on _fucking Endeavor_ with it, now did I?! You were just lucky he was already drunk and the thought of getting even more booze the only thing on his mind, otherwise you'd have been fucked with a capital F. Surely no striking and dashing like you did…"

Izuku is pumped with drugs to keep the pain at bay – all of his right hand fingers were broken and had to be put back into place the hard way – and his thoughts are slow too, but still this doesn't make any sense. Endeavor, _drunk_?! That's just unthinkable, the man is a pro hero and pro heroes have standards, they're exemplary citizens, the complete opposite of villains! Or at least so he's still innocent enough to believe, entirely failing to consider what Enji Todoroki could have been doing in that shithole liquor shop first thing in the morning.

"They showed some footage from before it happened too, he was visibly wobbly on his feet," Shigaraki points dryly. "Seriously, like fuck would he be the number two hero if some little shits like you two were able to take him on just like that! Get it?"

"Yes _daddy_ , I stand corrected," the blonde drawls, now gently stroking her little protégée's hair. "Will he be okay?"

The red eyes meet Izuku's once more as the villain's hand joins Himiko's in his hair, thin fingertips rubbing close to his scalp, making a cold shudder run down his spine and forcing his eyes shut. And again that dreadful feeling rears its ugly head – that even if there are no dead hands holding him this time, Shigaraki is just a puppet in the invisible hands of _someone else,_ whose will is nothing but pure, endless malice. Someone he'll meet very soon.

* * *

It's quite late in the evening when Izuku wakes up again, feeling refreshed and sober, and Himiko leads him out from the back room and into the bar, which is pretty much empty aside from Shigaraki, the dark warp (or whatever the fuck that is) bartender and an unknown couple who is sitting at a remote table in the corner. He can't see them well, just that the man (probably a villain judging by his bizarre choice of outfit) is fairly young, with spiky black hair and sharp blue eyes which oddly remind him of Endeavor's despite the devious expression and gruesome two-colored skin of his face and that the girl, petite and with blonde highlights in her long wavy hair, looks strikingly normal in comparison and even more out of place in her sparkly blue evening gown. The couple only looks at them for a moment before resuming their hushed, giggly conversation.

"Would you look at that doll Dabi picked up," Himiko mutters, perching on a bar stool next to the villain boss who is nursing a glass of whiskey as usual. "You know, I think that's the pervasive problem with villains these days, they're all looks and no skills."

"What?"

"Come on, Tomura, you don't get a girl like that and then bring her on a date _here_."

For some reason, the blonde likes to antagonize Shigaraki like this every time they meet and it works too.

"Are you saying my place is shitty or something?"

"You said it, not me."

The small plasma TV in the corner of the counter is on and Izuku is brusquely distracted from their banter when images from their earlier disastrous exploit come up on screen, followed up by an interview with Endeavor himself, now in full hero suit, his moustache and beard quite literally flaming in anger.

"Fortunately, pro hero Endeavor has already been able to identify the two suspects of this morning's brutal attack based on existing police database photos," the speaker says over the images, after which his and Himiko's candid pictures suddenly flash on the screen. "The suspects have been identified as 17-year-old Toga Himiko and 15-year-old Midoriya Izuku, both with a potential criminal record…"

The teen flinches violently at the sight and suddenly he can't breathe, desperately pressing his clenched fist against his lips as his mind goes blank with horror. They have been… identified? But God, so fast?!

 _We're fucked… Now we're fucked._

He wants to cry, but he's too scared to do even that.

"According to the police, Toga is the prime suspect in a still unsolved murder case from two years ago and also in several cases of assault and theft… Midoriya, whose mother has filed a missing person's report over four months ago has also been positively identified as a suspect in another armed robbery at a liquor store and also in the theft of a motorcycle…"

Izuku nearly jumps out of his skin when the blonde's arm wraps around his shoulders comfortingly, while Shigaraki turns to the two of them with a wide grin, giving them a thumbs up.

"… a serious matter of concern is also the alleged affiliation of Toga Himiko with the underground criminal organization known as the League of Villains."

"ALLRIIIIIGHT, LEAGUE OF VILLAINS!" Shigaraki cheers, throwing his hands up and clapping. "Free publicity much appreciated!" he laughs.

"This is a very serious issue which has to be addressed as soon as possible," Endeavor states with an outraged frown. "I will make personal efforts to see to it, the audacity of these bastards who call themselves the League of Villains is unthinkable! What's happening to our society?! And these kids - they are _so young_! They need to be apprehended and thoroughly disciplined…"

Himiko snorts, flipping her middle finger at the on-screen pro-hero. "Sorry fire daddy, you're not my type, so discipline _this_!"

"We-… We're _wanted_ …" the boy whispers, eyes wide and still glued to the screen.

* * *

A/N – Seriously now, what did you think, Izuku?


	6. Down from the clouds

_**Down from the clouds**_

Guys, as usual, thank you so much for your support, it means THE FUCKING WORLD to me! As for the story itself, I know this might look like the end, but it's far from it. Something really, really big is going to happen until then, because I am very determined to make All Might's job as a parent really complicated. Also, for now it looks like I skipped some important parts of the story, but they will be brought up later, so you won't be missing anything good, don't worry ;)

 _ **Warning:**_ _mention of major character death_

* * *

"Look, I know it sounds like a big deal, but I've been wanted for three years," Himiko says, eyes on the road and hands loose on the wheel. "Sure, there's shit you gotta do once you're on the run and moving is a pain in the ass more than anything. And I really liked this apartment, but… I've been renting it for over a year now, fuck it, time to leave it behind."

She's always so calm, so composed, so confident… if only Izuku could be like that too. If only _he_ was that strong…

"Hey… is _everything_ okay? We cool?"

"Uh… sure, why?"

"Well, I just think I sense that emo vibe again."

That would probably be the case if G.A.F. wouldn't do its job to keep it at bay, but as it is Izuku is just… apathetic. He's no longer scared per say, but feels weirdly drained, as if all energy has left his body. All he can do right now is to sit slumped against the car window, cheek pressed against his knuckles, staring outside with a blank expression.

"Nah, it's the hair."

None of them is particularly happy with the black dye, reason for which Himiko has chosen a washable product. It brings out Izuku's natural pallor in a striking fashion and with his freckles and the dark circles he's been sporting as of late around his eyes the effect is downright creepy. It hardly has the same effect on Himiko though, she's still stunningly beautiful and the gold of her eyes even more vibrant against the profuse, artificial black.

"I know it sucks that we have to rent a back room at Shigaraki's shitty place, but now that our faces have been shown on TV we can't go anywhere else, even with the fake papers. Not right now, anyway."

"The thing is… I mean, it's not that I think the place is shitty or that I don't trust him – which I don't - but Endeavor said he'd be going after the League of Villains now. So that kind of makes Shigaraki and his crew a target, no?"

Himiko clicks her tongue and sighs. "Yeah… But they can fight back and besides, if shit is to really hit the fan I have every intention to steer clear from it and let them handle their own shit."

"You mean like… we're not gonna help them?"

"Fuck no," the blonde says determinedly. "You see, Shigaraki _wanted_ this. The spotlight, the attention, the publicity, he is actively looking for a fight, he wants to take on pro heroes. So by all means, let him knock himself out. Ah, here it is!"

"Here's what?"

She pulls over in the mouth of a back alley (probably illegally) and Himiko drags the boy over to a discrete side door, with a colorful, artsy sign hanging above it.

"NO!" Izuku cries, eyes wide in shock as he stares at it. "NO FUCKING WAY!"

She just laughs at this, gripping his wrist a bit tighter. "Really?"

"No fucking way! My mom's gonna kill me! _SHE'S GONNA KILL ME!_ "

It's a tattoo parlor.

Himiko finally releases his hand, only to hug him from behind and rest her chin on his shoulder. "Mmmm, she gonna spank you?" she purrs, thoroughly amused as Izuku is shaking slightly under her touch.

"B-But… you don't have any tattoos. Right?"

She giggles and in the next moment the boy finds his back pushed against the brick wall, and Himiko's lips pressed against his hungrily, almost brutally.

"I want to try something new. _With you_."

The words sink into his every fiber like honeyed poison and he can't think anymore, any and all traces of reason instantly dissipating. But then there was no real resistance to begin with, he'll do anything Himiko wants, he only draws breath for her and because of her. He _belongs_ to Himiko in a very simple, undeniable manner.

* * *

Himiko goes first, because apparently she already knew what she wanted, but doesn't let him see it. 'Later, I'll show you later, if you're good.' Izuku in turn takes a long time staring at the designs on display, his mind blank. Some of them are scary, others grotesque and then some really beautiful, but he can only think how they'd all look ridiculous on his tiny, scrawny body.

"It doesn't have to be a standard design if you don't want. Just think of something that defines you," the blonde suggests.

 _Actually, that's even worse._

"I-I really can't think of anything right now," he replies with a wry smile. "Other than completely fucked… Quirkless and fucked."

Himiko hums thoughtfully, once more resting her chin on his shoulder and appearing to ponder on something. "I've been thinking about this, you know," she says after a while, "In the time before quirks became a thing and everyone had them, being 'quirky' wasn't something good at all, on the contrary. It was like a flaw or oddity, but in a bad way. So by that logic being quirk- _less_ is good, you know? Quirkless actually means you're perfect, Izuku."

… _perfect?_

Now, that's a surprising idea. Something no one would say in this day and age, except for Himiko, and she must mean it too, because she never says shit she doesn't really mean. Even so, it's not something he can wrap his mind around right off the bat, it's not like he hasn't taken absolute hell for years for this _perfection_ of his.

"Y-You think?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you could have snail eyes or shark teeth or… just something really fucked up! You were _lucky_!"

Lucky. Yes, that he was. He still is, incredibly so.

* * *

"So this was… like… two or three weeks before, um… before the bar was stormed."

Izuku stops and bites his lip hard, short nails digging desperately into his small, thin hands. By now he's really sick, rising nausea mixing with the chill which has settled into his limbs. He'd probably be shivering anyway in the thin, standard issue grey jumpsuit, and the cold and somewhat rough shower he's been given earlier didn't help either.

He's done talking. The rest is not something he'd share with anyone, and definitely not in an interrogation. It isn't relevant either, they already have their mind made up about Himiko – to them she was nothing but a ruthless, cold-blooded murderer who took pleasure in seducing men and subsequently cutting their throats, so the fact that she ended up breaking her own rule with Izuku the very night before everything was over can't possibly mean anything. Just the same, there'd be no point in trying to explain to them that she took both his guns so that the police wouldn't find him armed and have a reason to shoot him down like they did her.

"Well, at any rate you're in very big trouble, young man," the officer states sternly, in conclusion. "Aside from the multiple charges of theft and property damage, you've also injured a security agent and you even went as far as to fight two pro heroes. That's extremely serious and it officially qualifies you as a villain. Do you understand?"

So then, he's a villain now.

It's a bit unfair though, it's not like he _wanted_ to fight the pros, on both occasions he was only trying to escape! Surely it can't be the first time someone kicked Kamui Woods straight in the face and that thing with Endeavor was just ridiculous, the guy practically fell on his ass. Okay, _through a shop window_ , but that was only because he's so big…

"Bullshit," the boy mutters under his breath, but still audibly, gaze lowered into his own lap. He doesn't want to argue, or defend himself, he refuses to even think of it, to go over what happened two days before, because if he does he'll just fall apart, break into a thousand pieces.

Izuku doesn't even notice All Might leaving his seat, or resuming his usual hero form, just feels the man's large hand descending into the narrow space between his shoulder and neck, nearly brushing against the delicate black gothic letters decorating the teen's pale skin just below his jaw line, spelling _QUIRKLESS_. He flinches violently upon being touched, finding no comfort in it whatsoever. Quite on the contrary, the sheer, raw power emanating from those fingers seeps into his body, melting his bones with fear. After all, All Might has no reason to be gentle with him, Izuku is _a villain_ aside from being a personal disgrace for the man, so maybe he'll even-

"Hey, are you feeling ill?" the blond asks softly instead, visibly taken aback by the expression of pure horror in the boy's widened, red-rimmed eyes as he looks up abruptly.

Izuku nods weakly, still expecting the worst and completely unsuspecting of the other's painful cringing at the sight of what this cruel, glamour and power-avid world has done to his helpless child. "I-I think I'm going t-to-…"

He doesn't know what exactly he's going to do though, and the last thing he's vaguely aware of is those incredibly powerful arms wrapping around his small body and lifting him off the chair before everything just slips away.

* * *

"You know, they say you haven't fully experienced fatherhood until your partying teen child hasn't thrown up all over your good suit at least once," Tsukauchi observes, leaning against the wall and giving the blond a once-over. "Both my girls did it, but it looks like you dodged this too, you lucky bastard. It's really unfair, you know, no diapers, no flying food, no toy shop tantrums, and now your suit emerged unscathed. Damn…"

All Might struggles to muster a small, wry smile at his friend's attempt to lighten the mood. He really doesn't feel like he's dodged anything though, more like he's been punched in the face. "Yeah, he just fainted… he's in really bad shape."

The detective nods, having watched the whole interrogation from the other room.

"It was an ugly business," he says with a sigh, peeling himself from the wall and falling in step with the blond. "The League of Villains has been wreaking plenty of havoc lately and unfortunately the police was all fired up too, that's why they shot down that girl without warning, just because she was armed… I guess we can say that your kid was lucky, even if Kamui bruised him a little. We'll have to go over that tomorrow too, after the doctor checks him up."

The pro hero's shoulders are hunched, hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets. "So… what did you think?" he asks the one known as the Human Lie Detector.

"Well, he wasn't holding anything back, nor did he lie about anything, I can tell you that much. And the kid's not _evil_ either, I do believe he was just scared… But he did what he did and like I said, it's an ugly business and Endeavor is out for blood, too. You know there are some rumors going around about how he's not exactly the best husband and father… And now these kids beating him up - in a liquor store no less - made him look really bad. Someone's gotta pay for it and I don't think the girl's death will be enough."

All Might nods, tired. "When will his mother be allowed to see him?" he asks numbly.

* * *

Like I said, don't worry, you'll find out what Himiko's tattoo was. Also, things will get kind of dark from now on.


	7. Sober tears

_**Sober tears**_

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry I wasn't able to update last week, just too much shit piled up on me and I just couldn't. Again, thank you guys so much for the support, it means a lot! 333

* * *

 _It hurts! It hurts so much!_

That's the first thing coming on Izuku's mind as he wakes up, and it effectively blocks any other thought. The pain in his skull is so horrible and it seeps down into the rest of his body too, there's a burning sensation in his eye sockets as he opens his eyes and meets the crude, bright white light of the lamp above, and then jerking his head to the side to escape it makes everything _so_ much worse.

The boy flinches and lets out a weak whimper when a hand grips his chin firmly, tilting his face back up as someone clears their throat.

"I will need you to open your eyes," the voice commands, neutrally cold, and Izuku obeys, even if his stomach sinks at the sight of the stern-faced, white-robed man leaning over him and now holding a pen-size flashlight near his orbs.

The doctor examines him, then pulls back with a sigh. Even the rapid scratching of pen on paper is bothersome.

"I will ask you some questions now," the man goes on, his tone the slightest bit harsher. "We have to determine exactly what you've been taking, how it was administered, in what dosage and for how long. Do you understand?"

The teen nods automatically, even if speaking is the last thing he wants to do. He doesn't even think he _can_ do it.

'Water' is the only word he can get out clearly, the rest is such an awful, slurred jumble that it frightens him. A plastic cup is brought to his lips and when he tries to reach for it Izuku realizes that his hands are restrained again, this time his wrists being handcuffed to the edges of the narrow, hard bed. There's a bandage on his forehead, just below his hairline, tugging at his skin uncomfortably when his head is held up so he can drink.

The water doesn't help much, if anything it amplifies the sudden chill in his body and he begins to shake.

Somewhere nearby the doctor sighs again, clicking his tongue. "Look, I will just ask some questions and you either nod or shake your head, alright?" he decides to compromise and the boy is grateful.

But even so, it takes too long, Izuku is too tired to even think, he's shivering and his empty stomach feels unsettled, the handcuffs painfully preventing him from curling up into a tight ball and probably passing out again. It's absolutely dreadful, being sober. He can't face reality. Not now. _Not ever._

Another voice eventually interrupts the doctor, easing the teen's torment, and he turns his head to see the officer from earlier. He's alone this time.

"Do you think we can wrap up the interrogation now? Is he-…?" he asks.

"I'm afraid he's in no condition for that," the white-robed man explains, motioning with the questionnaire he'd been filling. "Just look at this!"

Some more words are passed between the two of them in a low voice, but Izuku is unable to focus enough to catch any of it. Shortly, the doctor returns by his side, this time with a syringe in hand. He is used to needles, but this shot really hurts, pain spreading into his arm and making him blink back tears.

"You will be given regular treatment," the other explains, now sticking an IV needle in, "But for the most part you will have to put up with the withdrawal symptoms. And when that happens, you'd do well to remember that this is your own doing."

* * *

About an hour later he is hydrated enough and at least able to stand on his own, so two guards come to take Izuku to his assigned cell. Even if he has yet to stand trial, unlike common offenders those qualified as villains get a 'special' treatment, being sent straight to prison. It's a sort of celebrity status, just like that of pro-heroes, and he seems to have earned it for fighting Endeavor and Kamui Woods. Not that it was much of a fight, but still.

It's close to curfew and down the hallway he's being lead through all cells are locked, their insides offering a dismal view – most villains are contained in a sort of thick glass and metal, coffin-like capsules, meant to make sure they're kept under strict control during the night. Izuku can't see faces inside, as the capsules are gradually being lowered in horizontal position for the night, but feels countless eyes watching and a new wave of horror washes over him. He's already shivering, barely able to walk, already taking more than he can handle.

The guards stop and unlock a cell where presently there's only one capsule – many of the cells have two – and it is already tilted horizontally, the bottom and upper glass panels slid back all the way. The inside is slightly cushioned, like a bed of sorts, and some belts are visible in the corners, like coiled black snakes. He is told to sit down in it as one of the guards undoes his handcuffs.

"…I-I can't…" the teen whispers choking, arms flying up to hug himself as soon as he's free. God, he'll die if they lock him in that thing!

"I SAID 'SIT DOWN'!" the man barks, shoving him forward roughly, such that the boy nearly falls down into the seat. "You'd better behave, you little shit, if you don't want us to bring you a cellmate. I think you know what all these bastards couldn't wait to do to you if given the chance!"

"Oi, don't say that to him!" the other guard grumbles, placing a folded blanket in Izuku's lap. "He's just a kid, for fuck's sake!"

"He's _a villain_!" the first points in the same tone, turning on his heels. After that they both walk out of the cell and the boy flinches as the lock is activated with a loud snap.

The cell is dark save for one, very small, red emergency light bulb above the grated door, and there's some dim light from the corridor. It's also very quiet once the guards' steps have faded in the distance, sinisterly so. This place feels like one large tomb and Izuku is the one lying in it, even if he's still alive. Even if he is-…

 _Alive and alone._

A shaky, strained sigh leaves his lips as the boy finally lifts his legs up and lowers himself into the capsule. Not wanting to think of something is just as bad as thinking about it. And now that his headache has subsided, there's nothing to distract him from it, from the visceral pain seeping into every cell of his body. Izuku curls up on one side, blinking and inhaling forcefully as he tries to keep the fresh wave of tears at bay. It's all a matter of perspective, Himiko would say, because she's so smart, wise even. Izuku might have ended up in this hell – the hell he never really, truly left, the hell of being alive – while she is _free_.

His eyes and fingertips numbly trace the outline of the upper glass and metal panel in front of him, then the inside of it, the surface cold, hard and unforgiving. Himiko was taken from him, but at least…

… _she is out there, somewhere. Free. Now they'll never catch her, they'll never lock her up into one of these coffins, inside this tomb._

He must – and he will! – tell himself that, repeat it again and again to keep the madness away, even though the gunshots still resound in his skull. Then, he knew right away, knew he'd lost her even before seeing her crumpled body lying in the hallway.

 _But that doesn't mean anything! It was quick, it was painless, they were saying the death was instantaneous! She was lucky, she got away, she-…_

"G-God…" Izuku whimpers quietly, losing the fight and tears filling his eyes yet again, spilling freely, and he slams the heel of his palm against the inside of the capsule.

The sudden pain that comes with it helps bring him back to the present moment and the teen's fingers discover a small bump on the surface, the head of a metal screw that came loose somehow. It's easy to twist too, doesn't take much work until it comes out completely and Izuku eventually holds it in front of his eyes, squinting in concentration.

The silvery screw is almost as thick as the boy's index finger and a tad longer, with a very sharp spiral-free end. This could be useful – Izuku ponders impaling his thumb on it – he could use it to-…

No.

That would be the easy way out, but he promised.

He promised Himiko.

 _Izuku is sure that he'd been asleep for a while now, it must be very late but still he wakes when Himiko comes back to their room, almost tiptoeing and closing the door with care, because Shigaraki has other 'tenants' too for the moment and strict rules in place to keep them from starting chaos (who would have thought). The room is so small and cramped that one can all but stumble straight onto the single bed coming through the door, but the blonde is as graceful in her movements as ever, straddling the boy's waist with purpose._

" _Not sleeping yet?" she whispers with a grin Izuku can clearly see in the semi-obscurity, leaning in slightly and wiggling a small, crinkly package in front of his face._

 _He momentarily flinches at the sight, but maybe this is for the best. He's not afraid, he's a dead man anyway, he's been since the day Himiko found him on that bridge. And he trusts her to make it quick and painless._

"… _there's no need for that." He shakes his head slowly, taking a deep breath._

 _Himiko scowls a little, leaning lower into his face. "Izuku, you know I like you a lot but I don't want to have your kids just yet. You do know what this is for, right? Or…no?" Her thin eyebrow arches questioningly._

" _I mean you don't have to do this before you-…" The boy is unsure how he should phrase this exactly. Instead, his fingers reach under the pillow and extract Himiko's favorite knife and he offers it to her, handle first. "I'm not afraid. …and I won't try to fight it either. So just do it."_

 _The blonde blinks, realization settling in and she sighs, pulling back a bit and taking the knife from his hand. She weighs it in her palm with practiced ease for a short moment, then throws it on the floor, away from the bed._

" _Izuku," she says in a serious tone, all flirtiness gone from it. "You're a really sweet and precious boy, but you need to develop a fucking self-preservation instinct. I mean it! If there's anyone in this fucking world who deserves to live, it's you! You_ should _live! I want you to live!"_

" _B-But-"_

" _Promise me! Promise me you'll live!"_

 _Izuku feels the sting of tears under his eyelids as he nods slowly. "Okay. I promise."_

 _He's an idiot, didn't understand anything. Himiko cares about him, she loves him just as much as he loves her._ _Actually, no, that's not true – she loves him_ a lot more _, but for now he's yet to find out just how much._

" _Good. Don't forget that." Himiko's teasing smile is back afterwards, even wider, and she holds the condom wrapper in his face again. "Now, please bite this open."_

If he thinks about it hard enough, he can still feel Himiko on his body. He can still remember his own fingers and lips exploring her smooth skin, especially the graceful, cursive letters adorned with tiny green leaves under her left breast, which spell his own name. They're so beautiful it hurts.

* * *

Izuku wakes up with a start when the cell is unlocked the next morning, at first having a bit of trouble figuring out where he is. The screw is still clutched in his hand, having left a mark into his palm, and the boy hurries to put it back in its place before the guards can see it.

"Get up, we've let you sleep in long enough," one of the men grumbles coldly and the boy complies, surprised he can stand up so quickly without getting dizzy. It must be still early though, and he doesn't really feel like he's slept that much. "Time to get cleaned up and then you'll get some breakfast, if you feel up to it now. Afterwards the doctor will see you and then your parents are coming over. Come on, move it!"

… _parents?_

Izuku closes his eyes and takes a deep, shaky breath as he's being ushered out into the hallway. Fuck. He absolutely can't face his mom right now.

* * *

Spoilers for the next chapter - now all hell will break loose and poor All Might will be caught in the middle.


	8. Burden

_**Burden**_

Hello everyone! I'm so sorry that again this chapter is late, I'm fucking married to my job and I barely have time for anything in this period. Also, when I'm pressured I tend to start multiple fics so as to complicate my life further, I swear my muses fuck with me hardcore. But now that the update is finally here, please enjoy! Love you all!

* * *

The guards diligently escort Izuku to the showers, then to the prison cafeteria, all the while giving him no privacy whatsoever. Not that he cares though, he's fallen into a sleepy sort of apathy again and it would be great if they'd just lock him back up in his cell and let him rest. Indefinitely.

But of course, he isn't that lucky.

He must pay for the past moments of happiness, which now already seem to have happened in another life. Izuku is well aware he's done quite a few bad things and now he must pick up the tab, probably both for himself and Himiko, but fuck, he couldn't say he's exactly sorry. He should be – after all All Might is a great guy and clearly didn't deserve this, and neither did his mom – but… Just like the physical illness, the pain in his soul comes and goes in bouts, and when it's gone it leaves him completely numb.

For now the teen simply obeys, like a puppet on strings.

He sits down at the indicated table in the cafeteria, staring absently at the frugal breakfast laid in front of him on a cracked plastic tray. He is indifferent to the openly curious stares of the other inmates, even if the complete absence of voices makes it worse and they're all a dismal sight – every villain wears some sort of quirk-inhibiting device which only adds to the terrifying appearance of most. Izuku is the only one who doesn't wear any such contraption and that, along with the very visible tattoo on the side of his neck, is bound to raise questions in their mind. Questions they will not share between themselves until later on, because in the public areas they are under very close supervision and all communications among inmates are forbidden.

The boy focuses on his own fingers – slowly wrapping them around the coffee mug, enjoying the pleasant warmth. Thankfully, his stomach doesn't protest when he takes a large sip of the dark, bitter liquid, so next goes a bite of the thin, barely buttered toast on the side. It's not that bad either and the teen hopes he might actually be able to keep it in - if he doesn't get sick again later – and then _it happens_.

Izuku flinches violently as he feels it all the sudden – the awful premonition he's had a few times before and which came about when Shigaraki first touched him, only it's much stronger now. The dead hands, no, _the one those horrible dead hands belong to_ , the one who lives in them, breathes and sees through them, the one whose will is nothing but pure, endless malice. It's completely irrational, but the boy simply _knows_ that this unseen, unknown person is very close.

Watching him, lying in wait.

 _Wait for what?!_

Izuku abandons his food, throwing a wild glance around, nearly breathless. He meets countless stares, none particularly benevolent, but he can't find what he's looking for. He doesn't even know what exactly that is, only that it's there. He buries his face in his hands and in one second it's all gone, vanished – maybe he's losing his mind? Maybe…

As the guards take him away a headache begins to creep in and again he's much too sober to cope.

* * *

The room is windowless and painted off-white, a metal table with four matching chairs placed under the sole neon lamp lit in the low ceiling. As the door opens, Izuku gets the chance to be met with its depressing expanse before All Might's huge frame blocks his view. The pro hero is wearing the same striped brown suit as the other day and the teen blinks, suddenly remembering how the man can _transform_ , from this to-…

 _Another thing that doesn't exactly make sense_

Still, his gaze plummets to the ground and to his own feet before he can catch the blond's expression because Inko must be right behind him and Izuku _absolutely cannot_ look at this mother now. He'll have to, at some point, but just… not right now. Unforgiving, the door closes behind him, leaving the boy alone with his parents, wishing the floor could open and swallow him whole in this very second.

At first no one says anything and he can hear All Might fidgeting awkwardly as he moves out of the way, stepping to Izuku's side. It's like the ominous quiet before the storm and the teen fights the urge to hug himself, forcing his hands to hang limply by his sides, close to his body, fingers slightly clenched.

"Izuku… " comes Inko's voice as he can hear her shifting closer, a mere whisper. "Is this how I raised you?"

Right, that's another thing – not only did he embarrass her for being such a loser all his life, now he made her look bad in front of All Might. Or worse, or-

" _IS THIS HOW I RAISED YOU?!_ "

Without warning her hand shoots forward and slaps him hard across the face, that stupid wedding ring she still wears for some unfathomable reason catching him in the nose.

"Owwwww! Mom…" Izuku whimpers weakly, hands flying up to his face.

"Now, now, Inko, I'm sure there's no need to be viole-"

"Shut up, Toshinori! I never laid a hand on him before and look what happened! _WHAT THE HELL IS THAT ON YOUR FINGERS_?! _AND ON YOUR NECK, GOOD GOD!_ _AND YOU DYED YOUR HAIR_?! " She grips a handful of the green curls on the tips of which some remnants of black still linger, yanking before she slaps the boy again, yet not as hard as before.

"Inko, I don't think the problem is that he dyed his hair," All Might intervenes, softly. "Or even that he's got a couple of tattoos…" Blue eyes trail over the letters decorating the side of his son's neck and it's plain to see that he's more concerned with their meaning than the thug aesthetics of it. "We've got more important things to discuss."

A large hand lands gently on the teen's shoulder, guiding him to sit down at the table. The blond sits down by his side – probably a requirement of the guards, since none of them is here as per regulations – while Inko sits in front of her son. She's close enough to be able to slap him again, and Izuku would much prefer that she does so, rather that ask him any questions.

"Izuku, look at me."

In the end he has no choice but to lift his head from his hands and take in his mother's pale face and dark-circled, red-rimmed eyes. Inko looks very tired, more so than he'd ever seen her before, and for the first time he spots a few silvery hairs glimmering into the dark green of her bangs. Her momentary bout of anger seems already exhausted – she's a gentle, sweet person and would have never reacted that way earlier if her son hadn't really done it this time (which he did), and right now it would have been better if she were more like Bakugo's mom – explode into a tantrum, yell and beat him into a pulp rather than… this.

"So, this girl you were with… Himiko? I suppose she was the one who introduced you to the drugs and-… and everything else."

Oh, no. He _absolutely can't_ talk to his mom about Himiko. No way. No fucking way.

"Was she your girlfriend?"

Obviously, she wants to know that, any boy's mother would. And it's probably a means to ease her way into tougher subjects, however unfortunate the choice. But since Izuku hasn't as much as dared talk to a girl before, in his past life, maybe she can be deterred from this. Or so he thinks, doing his best to look surprised at the mere suggestion as he shakes his head quickly and discreetly removes his tattooed fingers from sight.

"Wha- no! No, we were just… just friends! Why would you think-"

Inko's thin eyebrow is raised as she leans back a bit. "Are you sure? Because they've shown me all the footage from the surveillance cameras and I think I saw something else."

 _Fuck. FUCK._

Izuku briefly turns his head to look at the pro hero seated next to him and remembers he's talked about his relationship with Himiko during the interrogation, so All Might knows and he's probably told his mom too. So this wasn't really a question of _if_ , she wants details. Fuck.

"Uh… I mean… w-we made out a couple of times," the teen stutters, face warming up. It's a half-assed thing to say, but that's what his mother must have seen anyway, they weren't doing anything else out in the street, of that much he's sure of. "But it was just-…"

Inko sighs, shaking her head. "Did you sleep with her?" she asks calmly.

"No! _God!_ She was older than me anyway-"

"Izuku, are you lying to me again? This is serious, it's irresponsible and you could have gotten something, and you're only fifteen for God's sake!"

Well, at least he tried, the boy thinks as his face disappears behind his hands once more. "It was serious, I loved Himiko and she loved me too. And it wasn't irresponsible either, we used a condom," he mutters in a low voice, but the last sentence is enough to make the pro hero flinch visibly.

Fuck, now he's done it! Come to think of it, Izuku has no idea if All Might and his mother had a relationship, whether it was before or after her husband left (or maybe the very reason why he left in the first place) or why she didn't tell him the truth about having his child. What if they just had a one-night stand? His mother doesn't seem the type but… fuck, this really isn't any of his business, God!

"I'm sorry, Mom! I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean it that way, I-…I'm sorry, All Might…"

" _Dad_ ," the blond says softly, reaching out to grab one of the teen's hands and gently pry it away from his face. "And it's alright. Your mother was just worried, she didn't mean to invade your privacy and she… _we_ understand that you're grieving. What we do want to understand though is how it has come up to this in the first place, how you ended up on the bridge that day."

"Izuku… was it really that bad at school?" his mother whispers.

His eyelids fall shut. He can't explain to them how he felt back then, how he was _suffocating_. How he was drowning in poison.

"I just… I wrote into a school form that I wanted to go to U.A." Izuku pauses, taking a deep breath. "I know it sounds stupid, since I could never-… and I really shouldn't have done that, because the teacher read it out loud in class and then everyone ganged up on me, him included." He shakes his head, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "And then someone said that maybe in my next life I'll get a quirk, so I should take a swan dive off the roof."

"Oh my God…" Inko breathes, hand flying up to her mouth.

All Might clears his throat. "But that's not all, is it? The doctor found some burnt marks on your body, and he said they weren't new. Can you tell us how you got those?" His voice is still very gentle, and his large fingers which still hold Izuku's hand give it a reassuring squeeze.

"Was it Bakugo?" his mother asks. "Izuku… it _was_ him, wasn't it?"

Kacchan is a student at U.A. now – _All Might's_ student – and a history of bullying might reflect very badly on him. Might cause him problems. But Izuku doesn't want any of that – he already saw what the tantrum-prone blond is made of when he put the guns in his face. He's got such power, such an amazing quirk, yet he was so fucking scared in that moment that he couldn't even move. No, Izuku settled that, left it behind already.

"Yeah. It was him, but it's nothing. It was my fault anyway, I just kept pursuing him because I wanted to be friends with him, I was being stupid. And he didn't… _mean_ to hurt me," the boy says, shaking his head with a tired sigh. He doesn't know for sure, but fuck it. "He's just dumb and out of control I guess."

"But that's not an excuse!"

Izuku clicks his tongue. _Fuck Kacchan already._ "It doesn't matter. Himiko said it's okay. She said it's okay to be quirkless and she said she wants me to live. That's why-" A loud sob chokes him and suddenly he can't go on anymore. "She kept me alive but now she's dead. She's… _gone_!" Tears finally take over and he can't stop them this time, shaking and curling helplessly in his seat.

Inko stands from her seat and a moment later he feels her arms closing protectively around his body, her lips pressing into his hair.

"I'm- 'm sorry, Mom… Please forgive me! I'm so sorry…"

"I know, baby! I know…"

* * *

Izuku is momentarily left alone in the small room after the guards escort his parents out – they only had fifteen minutes – but now he can hear them bickering outside in the hallway and slumps against the hard table, head buried in his hands.

"Ahhh, this _is_ my fault and you know it! If only you had told me… I know what he was feeling, because I've been there myself!"

"Oh, please, where have you been, Toshinori? In prison? Drugged out of your mind?"

"Inko, you have no idea what it's like to be quirkless! Even back when I was young it was something-… And you didn't even know he was being bullied! If you had told me, we would have been there for him together, we would have sent him to a better school-"

"What do you mean 'a better school'?! He's always done just fine in school, he's always had top grades, he's not an idiot, for God's sake!"

"I know, I know he's not an idiot, but maybe we could have sent him to a school where talents such as his are more appreciated than one's ability to shoot confetti out of their arse or lack thereof, damn it!"

His mother goes on to say something in reply, but Izuku doesn't have the energy to listen anymore.

* * *

A/N – Spoiler warning! Izuku is not actually losing his mind – something is about to happen and I've been dropping hints about this in previous chapters as well. I wonder if you can guess what it is…


	9. You promised me

_**You promised me**_

Hey guys! Surprise, surprise, I finally managed to write this new chapter! I've been dropping hints for a while as to what's coming, now it's time for it to actually happen. That is to say, y'all have been warned. Also, this story is drawing to an end, even though I'm still undecided about the final twist of it.

 _ **Warnings:**_ _graphic violence, character death_

* * *

He's actually relieved when he's brought back to his cell at the end of the day and left alone in the growing darkness. As tomblike as it may be, Izuku was quick to conclude that his cell is the safest place to be, away from questioning, doctor's check-ups, inquisitive stares from the other inmates and the guards' rough manners. Apparently there will be a while until his trial, and his parents won't be able to visit often due to the tight security regulations of the villain prison, but the teen can't think about all that now, as he's lying in his capsule, absently twisting the loose screw in and out just to give his fingers something to do. Right now, the only thing Izuku can consciously focus on is to cling to any piece of comfort he can find.

And he can only hope that sleep will come quickly.

 _Izuku's bony knees are resting against the worn, scratched board of the old black Honda. The window on his side is rolled all the way down, letting the dusty, cool wind in to ruffle his hair. He can smell lingering cigarette smoke around him, but his back pockets are empty when the boy pats them with craving, anxious hands._

" _Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, lips twisting into a bitter grimace._

" _Hey."_

" _What?" His eyes are on the road, nondescript buildings and street signs rushing by. It doesn't matter, none of this matters, it's just empty decor the teen barely registers. If only he could get a smoke..._

" _I sense that emo vibe again, full blast. I don't like it."_

 _Izuku inhales deeply, letting his head fall back before turning it slowly towards the driver._

" _I'm so fucked."_

" _So you are."_

 _Himiko's hair is loose, golden strands dancing around her face in the wind. A faint smile is lingering on the corners of her mouth, as if she's just told a joke, something they're both supposed to laugh together about. And Izuku tries, but it's not working, not this time._

" _I love you so much..." he whispers instead, and tears come. They rush in violently, run down his face, cloud his vision faster than he can wipe them._

 _The blonde grins, reaching over to stroke his raised knee."I love you too Izuku, but you need to stop crying. You look like shit when you cry, everyone does."_

" _You don't understand..." Why is his voice so soft, why can he only whisper?! No matter how much he tries, he can't speak any louder. "I need you! I don't want to be alone, I need-"_

" _I know, Izuku, but you promised me." Himiko's smile is gone and her fingers grip the wheel harder. "You must wake up now."_

 _The boy shakes his head, tries to reach out to touch her arm but his body feels oddly immobile all the sudden, he can't even do that. Now he can barely speak through frantic breaths. "Please! I love you, Himiko, I don't want to leave you again! Let me stay here with you-"_

" _No!" She turns to him, stern expression cracking slightly. "Izuku, you promised me!"_

" _But-"_

" _You_ fucking promised _me! Wake up now!"_

* * *

He does wake, with a start even, eyes wide in the surprising light around him. He's still in his cell, now sitting upright in his capsule, back against the cold wall as he tries to figure out what's going on, why it was that he had to wake up in the first place. And the boy quickly identifies the reason – a man now stands by the side of his capsule, looking down and seeming to observe Izuku inquisitively. His appearance is striking to say the least, not only because his bulky frame is tubercular, with protruding veins like an overgrown root going up even from his shoulders along the thick neck to his square, strong jaw line, but because his eye sockets are some barely-there, scarred craters into the scarred skin, eyeless. Yet the man _looks_ at him, he's sure of it.

"Izuku Midoriya, I believe you know who I am?" the villain (the grey jumpsuit undoubtedly identifying him as an inmate) says, leaning forward towards the teen's face.

Izuku blinks, unable to form any words, not even a simple 'no'. It didn't hit him right away, but only because the other didn't want to, _kept it_ from him on purpose. This man... is Shigaraki's mysterious _Master_.

 _The master of the dead hands._

The teen shakes his head – not only in denial but absurdly hoping this is somehow not real, the other's presence is unbearable, suffocating, it is bad enough in itself to make him physically ill. But _it is_ real, so the only thing he can do is pull his knees up to his chest defensively, eyes darting warily past the villain's frame, through the open cell door, into the lit hallway. It's but a fleeting impulse though, Izuku already knows in his gut that no one is coming, he doesn't even question how the villain got there when he should have been locked up in a cell of his own, secured inside a capsule.

"I am All for One," the man clarifies calmly – even though this cryptic nickname neither means anything nor fits his description. "And I know you have been _aware_ of me for a while now. I am not surprised though, since you are All Might's _love child_."

He speaks the last two words with disdain but also intrigue, making the boy flinch. Izuku was too numb until now to fully process that All Might is his real father, let alone the implications of that for him as an inmate in a villain prison.

"Wha-... What do you want from me?"

It's a stupid question of course, Izuku figured it out as soon as the pro hero's name came up – the man wants revenge for being put in here and this is going to be ugly. Uglier than it was with Endeavor and he doesn't have _Product X_ anymore, though he doubts it would work with this guy anyway.

All for One's mouth curls into a light smile. "Just two things. First, your quirk – I like to collect them for myself. And then your life, of course."

Beyond the sheer horror, Izuku feels the sickness rising from his stomach to his chest, softening his bones, making it hard to breathe, hard to keep his eyes open. He can only hope it will be over quickly.

"Show me!" the other barks unexpectedly, his tone much harsher now and his large hand shoots forward, gripping the teen's shoulder and turning him around forcefully. "SHOW ME YOUR QUIRK!"

Izuku's face is slammed into the wall, pain exploding in his skull, then All for One tears the back of his jumpsuit and thick fingers mercilessly dig into the boy's spine, as if searching for something. It hurts like hell, it's so horrible, but the boy can't even scream, only some choked gasps and moans come out as he uselessly tries to escape the other's grip.

 _Stop! I'm quirkless, there's nothing for you to take, just- Please, stop! Just-_

"You don't really expect me to believe this bullshit!" the villain growls behind him, a thumb pressing into the side of his neck, over the black ink there. "No one is quirkless!" To make a point, he punches his fingers in with more force, into the boy's side this time and something cracks, finally tearing a scream from Izuku's throat.

"FIGHT ME!" All for One demands, pulling the teen backwards and twisting his torso so that he can face him once more. "They all fight, give me something, come on! There's no point in hiding it, I will find it anyway!"

The pain only grows stronger as his bare, injured back is slammed into the wall and Izuku knows he's going to pass out soon. His vision is blurred and his body slumps forward. His left hand creeps forward too, the other weakly gripping the front of the villain's jumpsuit. It's pointless, he doesn't even think it, because All for One can somehow hear his thoughts and he just can't, anyway.

" _I will find it anyway_!" the eyeless villain hisses, brutally shoving his knee into the teen's stomach and both his hands now thrusting, _tearing into_ his body, breaking into his ribcage with a pure will to destroy. "SHOW ME! SHOW ME YOUR QUIRK, YOU DAMN BRAT!"

 _Izuku, you promised me._

He is screaming, tears running down his face, it's pointless, he's going to die anyway, but... he promised. He promised her. There is still some strength left in his fingers, enough to reach for the loose screw, twist it out of its hole, grip it steadily and... thrust the sharp end into the side of All for One's throat.

It goes in with unexpected ease, as if into putrid flesh, blood gushing out violently, and the villain freezes, the eyeless face twisting into an expression of utter surprise. Then All for One reaches out again, to grab him, but his massive body slips down from the capsule and collapses onto the floor, blood pooling around his head as he croaks unintelligibly with his mouth open, still trying to reach for something unseen.

"I... told you... I'm... quirkless..." Izuku breathes out, leaning over the edge of the capsule to glance down at the dying villain, while blood runs down from the corners of his mouth. Then he is out like a light.

* * *

All Might is tired. It's a pervasive feeling he can't shake off, hunching his thin, bony shoulders, slowing his thoughts. ' _Maybe it's all bullshit_ ' Aizawa said once and these words were the first to come to his mind when he got Tsukauchi's phone call. He knows what he should do – ask questions, demand an explanation as to how such a thing was possible in the first place – but...

"If I had dealt with him when I had the chance, instead of just sending him to prison, none of this would have happened," he states, dragging his feet alongside the quiet detective as they make their way towards the prison's hospital ward. Every step is torture. "But a hero doesn't kill, so I couldn't do it. And now he's almost killed my child."

"I am certain that he had inside help, there was no way he could have gotten out of his capsule and the special restraints otherwise, but it's very likely that he got rid of those who helped him – five dead guards were found around his cell. This is how he found out about Izuku as well."

The blond sighs – none of this matters now. Most likely Izuku isn't going to survive his injuries.

"At least the bastard didn't get out. I probably shouldn't say this, but I'm not sorry he kicked the bucket the way he did," the detective says.

The hospital ward is eerily quiet as Tsukauchi leads him into a closed reserve, where his son lies in a bed surrounded by monitors. Izuku looks dreadful, one side of his face bruised under the oxygen mask, his ruined torso wrapped in countless bandages. All Might plops absently onto the only chair by the bed and reaches out to gingerly take the boy's hand in his, cautious of the IV drip attached to it.

"You know, I couldn't tell Inko," he confesses, head bowed. "I know I have to, but... not... not yet."

Behind him, the detective fidgets awkwardly. "Listen, it's not your fault. You did the right thing, and you couldn't protect the kid, not in here. This is our fault and we will take responsibility-"

But then something happens, cutting him off – something _snaps_ audibly and both men flinch, baffled. Then it happens again, and again, and Izuku moans weakly in his sleep as he shifts in bed, his face scrunched in pain, and All Might's sunken eyes widen at the sight of thin twirls of black smoke beginning to rise from the boy's body.

"What the hell is that?!" Tsukauchi asks alarmed before punching in the emergency button.

Almost immediately afterwards they're both pushed aside as a doctor and a nurse rush into the room, frantically checking the monitors and then inspecting the patient.

"What's going on?!"

"He's… I-I don't understand!" the doctor stutters confused after several minutes of investigation. "He's… healing. It looks like the broken ribs have somehow regenerated…"

"But that's not possible!" the Human Lie Detector insists. "You must be wrong, the kid is quirkless, he can't-"

"He's not quirkless anymore," All Might whispers next to him, horrified. He knows those twirls of black smoke only too well, even the sight of them makes the hole in his side wince in pain. "He absorbed All for One…"


	10. Heartless logic

Wonderful, I just realized that I last updated this more than a month ago. Unfortunately, the balance sheets submission period came at the end of May and things became really crazy at work for a while, after which I simply short-circuited and fell into a dead battery phase. So, yeah.

I want to thank all of you guys so much for your insightful comments, they're really helpful for me as a writer and I'm happy to see you involved in this (amazingly fucked up) plot. Speaking of, I know that the last update left behind a lot of confusion, so in the upcoming chapters I will do my best to explain what the hell is actually going on and why _All for One_ flubbed it the way he did, aside from bad karma, which is something I happen to believe in. I might insert some stuff which is not canon but rather part of this AU. Also, as things are drawing to an end, I'm considering writing a 'five years later' epilogue after the _All for One_ issue is out of the way, to give things some closure. Or maybe some new beginning? Who knows. I might make you choose ;)

* * *

A day and a half later Izuku's injuries are completely healed, yet he's still unconscious. Next to the bed, All Might sits slumped forward in his chair, bony forearms resting on his knees, long wisps of blonde hair concealing his face. As far as Tsukauchi knows, he still hasn't called Inko Midoriya.

"What's going on?" the detective asks quietly, a tad cautious. "Do they know… why he's not waking up?"

The pro hero shifts, lifting his head a bit but not meeting his friend's gaze. "The doctors say there's nothing wrong per say, that he's perfectly healed, _clean_ even, he won't need detox treatment anymore. But the healing took a toll on his body and he must rest. That's why he's still sleeping." He pauses, rubbing his hand over his face, as if to chase away the growing, visible fatigue and _something else_ the detective isn't able to put his finger on just yet. "That's what they told me."

"…but?"

"You know they'll bring in a quirk expert tomorrow morning," the blond says. He straightens his back, finally turning his head. Worry is plastered all over his tired features and his shoulders are tense. Better to address the elephant in the room, his friend thinks, but then he says nothing else.

"Well, we do need to get to the bottom of this thing right away," the other states, clearing his throat. "If he indeed _absorbed_ …" No, that's poor phrasing, it's no longer a matter of 'if' and there's also no point in beating around the bush too much. "I mean, you know better than anyone that _All for One_ is a very powerful, very _dangerous_ quirk. We need to determine how this happened exactly and to assess-…"

The Human Lie Detector trails off, unsure. It is a difficult subject, scary even, especially because no one knows better than All Might how destructive _All for One_ can be. They will need to determine how the boy will be affected by this accursed quirk and what security measures will be needed from now on. Tsukauchi would hate it if they'd have to put the kid into one of those closed capsules – but what if his potential inability to _control_ his new powers is deemed a hazard? He doesn't want to tell his friend _all that_ openly, not yet. He probably doesn't even have to.

The blond only shakes his head. "There is something else the quirk expert will have to figure before all that. I heard the doctors whispering something about Izuku's body not being able to contain _All for One_ , precisely because it's such a powerful quirk. It may have healed him for now, but in the same time it might be consuming his vital strength much more than he can take. He might not-…" All Might pauses, choking. "He might not wake up, after all."

* * *

Izuku does though, later than evening, sitting up abruptly despite the leather restraints on his wrists, which are ripped clean with the swift motion. At first there's nothing but a bright blur in front of his eyes, but then it's gradually replaced by a white, bare wall. Izuku stares, wide-eyed, he's not in his dark cell anymore but in what looks like a hospital room. Somehow, it looks even worse, there's something unforgiving about the surrounding all-white and the bright light from above hurts his eyes. Turning his head, the boy's eyes fall on All Might's hunched figure nearby and his breath hitches audibly.

The blond moves from his seat, leaning forward and carefully placing his large hand on his son's shoulder.

"Izuku, how do you feel?"

The teen can't answer, can't even shake his head in denial, just stares down in his lap, at the torn straps around his wrists. For someone who just woke up from a long sleep, he's strikingly lucid, much too aware of everything. He remembers all with clarity, as if it just happened. Surely, All Might knows – he _killed_ that man. The fingers of his left hand can still feel the cold, hard metal of the screw. And it's so unfair, All Might doesn't deserve this. It would have been easier, _much easier_ if he had just... He wants to cry, but tears won't come.

 _What's the point? 'I'm sorry?' 'I didn't want to do it?'_

The door opens and an unknown man with a police badge walks in quietly, as if not to disturb. His gaze quickly spots Izuku's free hands, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't react in any way.

"Izuku, please, tell me what's wrong!" All Might moves from the chair to the edge of the bed, an arm draping carefully around the boy's shoulders, despite Izuku's visible flinching. The fingers of his free hand gently stroke the boy's hair, soothing. "Are you sick? How do you feel?"

He must say something. "...I'm fine. I feel okay, I think. Can I have some water?"

The teen allows himself a small reprieve as a glass is carefully brought to his lips and he takes long sips of the cool liquid. Something is wrong, _very wrong_. The last thought before passing out was that he was dying, tasting his own blood in his mouth – he remembers that quite clearly – and now he's without a single ache and in perfect strength, more than that even, because he freed his wrists with brute force. _That man_ is nowhere to be seen now, but he's not gone, far from it.

"T-The eyeless man… I ki-"

"NO! No, don't say that! You only defended yourself!"

 _He was foul, evil. I know it. He would have killed me. And it was what Himiko would have wanted me to do._

But even as he leans back intohis father's comforting embrace, the image of the man lying on the tiled cell floor, choking on his own blood lingers behind his eyelids and he can't shake it off. Not with all the logical reasoning in the world. It's too horrible.

"I killed him, Dad," Izuku whispers. It has to be said.

"Technically, you didn't kill him," the unknown man intervenes, in a surprisingly neutral voice. "That villain, _All for One_ , has been using his quirk to extend his life way past normal mortal boundaries. As far as we know, he was alive for almost two hundred years and what he was now... it was something _unnatural_. He wasn't a living man anymore."

All Might throws a quick glance at his friend, grateful for the half-lie meant to ease Izuku's guilt.

It's not really working though, because Izuku _knows_ it's a lie. Somehow, suddenly he can feel it, if he focuses a bit he can feel the two men's vibes – if not their thoughts – in a manner which is quite frightening. Not just because he's unused to it, but because it's not his own perception - it's _that man's_ – who is inside of him now. At least, neither the pro hero nor the other one are angry about what happened. They are preoccupied with Izuku's state, worried for some reason, but what's certain is that none of them regrets the villain's death. The one with the police badge ( _'detective Naomasa Tsukauchi'_ suddenly flashes through the boy's mind) is relieved even.

The teen nods slowly. "Still, I... it was horrible. I mean the way he died-"

"What he did before that was even more horrible," the detective interrupts him. " _All for One_ has done countless crimes during his lifetime and three nights ago, before he got to you, he killed five more people. And he would have killed more on his way out. After that... I don't even want to think about it. Even your father suffered a grave injury the last time he fought him, when he was apprehended."

The man's words seem insensitive, just cold, heartless logic, but he only wants to help, to ease his burden. And clearly, there is truth to it, he and All Might both knew the villain and the horrors he's caused. Still, it doesn't work.

" _And so it ends. The only thing I can do is to at least make sure I'm the last person they've hurt."_

Himiko could put up with this mess when needed. But then again, she was strong. She could do a lot of stuff Izuku can't.

"We are well aware that it was a tough experience for you, and I'm really sorry. We take full responsibility for what happened. But I want you to know that no one blames you for the outcome, Izuku."

He must tell them. It will probably be bad – at best they'll think he's lost it, but he must. If he doesn't, 'All for One' or whatever the fuck his name is might still win, as absurd as that sounds.

"There is something else." Izuku doesn't look at the detective as he speaks. "I think... I think he is _inside of me_ now. When he died, he got inside of me, I can feel it. He can do stuff," the boy says, holding up his hand, "and he can read your mind, sort of. I'm sorry."

"He's not inside you, Izuku," All Might says softly, continuing to stroke his hair. "What happened is that when he died you absorbed his quirk, _All for One_. That's why you healed so quickly, among other things."

He can tell his father is telling the truth – just as he can finally figure out that this is the cause of the pro hero's worry – but it doesn't make any more sense than his initial theory. This is a _quirk_? Granted, Izuku wouldn't know what having a natural quirk feels like, _Product X_ didn't really feel like anything when he wasn't fighting or punching something. But this can't be right, because _it_ feels foreign and besides, a quirk is the ability to do something – _one_ thing – while this...

"Actually, _All for One_ is not just one quirk, but a bundle," Tsukauchi supplies, answering his unspoken question. "He had the ability to take other people's quirks and make them his own. And he took quite a few."

That at least makes some sense. "He did say he wanted to take mine. He wouldn't believe I didn't have one, he said there's no such thing as quirkless, and kept insisting that I fight him. I don't understand why, I thought he just wanted revenge."

With the words, all the pain and the horror come back. Izuku can feel that both All Might and the detective are confused now, what he just told them doesn't seem to add up to their knowledge of _All for One_ , but suddenly he's too tired to think about it. So tired that he can barely keep his eyes open. His limbs are weak, his body unable to sit upright anymore. It's that familiar 'dead battery' phase following the use of _Product X_.

"I'm sorry, I just need to sleep," he says, or thinks he says, barely feeling his own head reaching the pillow before he's pulled back into slumber.


	11. All for One (part 1)

Izuku has no idea how much time has passed – how much he's slept this time – because it was all a black hole of nothing, but in the end it seems that the doctors' predictions were wrong. The newly acquired quirk didn't kill him, even if it drains him constantly and does make him need more rest than he should. Apparently, _All for One_ needs a bigger, stronger body if it is to allow someone to function at full capacity, so they think that he should eat more and even go to the prison gym.

He's not considering either, though. For now, the teen is grateful that they didn't lock him into a closed capsule – the previous routine was resumed, even if he is well aware that the guards watch him more carefully now. Their tension is almost palpable and for good reason.

"Do you know who I am?" asks the man sitting across the metal table, voice neutral and face completely expressionless save for a vague glint in his golden eyes, hidden behind thin-rimmed glasses, as he takes Izuku's wrist between long, thin fingers and feels his pulse. His entire appearance – from the non-descript grey suit to his facial features - is strikingly bland, like he's supposed to be able to lose himself in the crowd.

The teen is presently back in the windowless, off-white interrogation room, body slumped forward on the table and head resting sideways on his forearm. Strange enough, he doesn't need to look directly at the man to read his every gesture, not that there's much to read anyway.

"You're the quirk expert."

"Very good. I'd say your quirk is stabilizing."

They kept him in the dark on purpose then, when bringing him to this meeting. Still, Izuku _found out_ , without even actively making an effort to read their thoughts. He wouldn't even know how to do that exactly _, All for One_ didn't exactly come with a user's manual. This man however is quite unreadable, one can't reach inside of him and his face doesn't say anything either.

"And how do you feel? Any physical discomfort?"

"I'm tired a lot and... I don't feel like eating more than one meal a day. Sometimes I get bouts of nausea and I try to vomit, but I can't."

The words slip numbly out of his mouth - the acute, violent feelings experienced upon waking up have gradually dwindled into a state very much akin to the familiar, G.A.F.-induced calm. Only this time it doesn't feel good, it doesn't feel reassuring in any way, and deep down Izuku is scared of what this means. If his feelings are going to sleep, maybe soon enough his conscience will too, if it hasn't already. And then he will be a monster, just like _All for One_ was. Something purely evil.

In front of him, the man shifts almost inconspicuously in his chair.

"I see. I believe that at this point you're also more or less consciously rejecting your quirk, but if you're trying to _throw it up_ it's not going to work."

His tone of voice is emotionless, almost disinterested, although this can't possibly be the case. Izuku has no idea what the expert's quirk is – perhaps a mental impenetrability of sorts – and the fact that he can't read the other's thoughts is finally beginning to pull him from his apathy, it's slightly unsettling. He was probably chosen on purpose.

"Can _you_ get it out of me?" the boy asks mindlessly. Sadly, he can already guess the answer, since no one seemed to take this possibility into account. But it's not impossible, so maybe-

The other's head tilts slightly, intrigued, as if he wonders if he's being tempted with the forbidden fruit. It lasts but one second though, the expression quickly replaced by the cool, professional attitude.

"No, we don't have that sort of ability," he says. "If we had, maybe this place wouldn't be necessary – we could just remove the villains' quirks and send them to a regular security prison. Also, I believe that the ethics of such a thing would be highly questionable, but like I said, it's not the case."

"But this is different, I wasn't born with this quirk. It's not _mine_!"

The expert sighs. "It wasn't _All for One_ 's either, he stole all these quirks from other people. But that was something only he could do and we have reasons to believe that in some cases this resulted in the death of his victims." He pauses, pensive. "But I don't really know, he was difficult to study."

 _To study?_

So, he is a test subject and the expert must find the whole situation very interesting. _All for One_ probably refused to answer his questions, he did not allow himself to _be studied_ , but now with Izuku he finally has this opportunity. It's not a very encouraging thought, but maybe he can get something out of it in return? _Wait, what?_ When did he become so pragmatic, so calculated?!

"What did he want?" Izuku asks, this time making an effort to lift his head and look the man in the eyes. " _All for One_ , I mean. Do you know why he was doing all this?"

 _I don't care what he wanted. And I don't want his fucking quirk either! Maybe this guy thinks I should be grateful for getting it or something?!_

Golden eyes blink briefly, but otherwise there's no reaction.

"I have no idea," the other admits, with surprising confidence. "We know that he obsessively sought to accumulate more and more power through the collection of quirks, we know that he developed the ability to heal severe wounds and that he artificially prolonged his own life way beyond natural limits. But what his ultimate purpose was, I do not know. Still," the expert leans forward on his elbows, closer, "Detective Tsukauchi told me that you believe _All for One_ might have transferred more than his quirk to you upon his death, like... a part of himself. Can you tell me why you think that?"

The teen looks away, hands descending to grip and twist into the rough fabric of his jumpsuit at his midsection. Nausea is slowly creeping on him, but he resists the urge to curl up in his seat. Like the expert said, he can't throw up _All for One_ , as much as he'd want to, so there's no choice but to try and breathe through the unpleasant sensation. Slowly, with hesitant words, he describes his first encounter with Shigaraki and implicitly his unseen master, then the other times he's felt the villain's presence, all the way to their actual encounter. It's painfully easy, because if nothing else, those sensations are still incredibly vivid in his memory, he doubts that he'll ever be free of that sheer terror and when he's done, he's terribly exhausted once more.

The man in front of him, after having listened carefully, relaxes his shoulders with a light snort. There is still no emotion on his face, not one single trace of human… anything. But maybe he doesn't really get it. How could one comprehend what they have not felt?

Unexpectedly though, the other sighs. "I know what you must be thinking, Mr. Midoriya – that my approach to the issue at hand is much too pragmatic and that I'm insensitive to what you've been through. I can assure you that it's not the case! However, precisely because of the depth of your trauma, I must insist on the necessity of keeping a clear head when it comes to analyzing the how-s and the why-s if you are to avoid falling into the same trap as I suspect _he_ did. While it's undeniable that _All for One_ is a very powerful combo of quirks and we do not know all there is about it, it is still ultimately just a quirk. There is nothing mystical about it whatsoever, as it wasn't about _All for One_ as a person either. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

Well, there is logic to that. Everyone… okay, nearly everyone has quirks. Izuku too has studied them in great detail before, he was fascinated with them, he desperately wanted to have a quirk too, something cool, something powerful, something he could be a hero with. _All for One_ must have had a similar interest, albeit for entirely different reasons, and unlike Izuku, he could get what he wanted too.

"Since pro heroes are so appreciated and glamourized," the other says, with the tiniest hint of disdain, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, "It's inevitable that in turn villains also get their share of… I wouldn't say 'popularity', but at any rate the worst of them are considered interesting, fascinating even, and some actively pursue this status by making bold statements as to their _goals_ , regardless of how evil or utopic or… whatever."

He pauses, examining his neatly manicured fingers. "But it's all bullshit, they all just want power and influence, material advantages, nothing out of the ordinary. _All for One_ himself was nothing more than the leader of a criminal organization which made money from selling various drugs and - more recently - quirk inducers. A lot of money. But even the pursuit of power for the sake of power is quite mundane, if you think of it."

 _It didn't feel that way though…_ It felt like something much more… primal, essential even.

"…okay." All that may be true, but there's still something which remains largely unexplained. "But then why did I feel like, uh… like there was a-… a connection between us? I know he felt it too, he said as much, and that's why he was so hellbent!"

"The irony..." the expert observes, bringing the tips of his fingers together. "Well, I think I can put your mind at ease about this. See, when I talked to him, _All for One_ did not hide his efforts to know all there is to know about quirks – 'I know far more than you could ever hope to discover with your inferior skills' he said. Indeed, his studies into the nature of quirks seem to have been extensive and he carefully analyzed the quirk of each person he came into contact with, no doubt to see if there was something he could take and use. The only thing it never occurred to him to study – and for good reason, if you consider his objective – were quirkless people."

Izuku blinks, struggling to focus. "But... he told me there's no such thing as quirkless. Surely he knew...?" He's never met other quirkless people, but he remembers the doctor telling his mother that, although a rare occurrence, this phenomenon is not as exceptional as they'd thought.

"Of course he knew, that was a hoax meant to call on what he thought to be a bluff," the expert says, discreetly pointing at the tattoo on the side of the boy's neck. Oddly enough, the tattoos are the only marks left on his body, but he's glad – he has every intention to keep them. "Because, as hard to believe as it might be, there was something he was ignorant of and in his ignorance he was deceived."

It does sound hard to believe – _All for One_ knew everything. It was in his power to. It felt that way.

"Like I said, my deduction was that he never bothered to study quirkless people," the other goes on, unfazed by the disbelieving look he's getting. "And it makes sense too, there was nothing he could take from them and all he was interested in was _taking_. Furthermore, the widespread opinion of the medical community is that - while once being the norm for the majority of the population – quirkless-ness is nowadays no more than the unfortunate product of some recessive gene, a harmless anomaly that will be completely eliminated in time. What interest could he possibly have in something like that? He was looking forward, towards _superior evolution_. Now, we know from the subsequent interrogation of Tomura Shigaraki that his mentor had officially appointed him as his successor - which means that he was aware, in spite of the great power his quirks granted him, that he would eventually die. It was only a matter of time, his body was constantly degrading."

So that's why the villain's flesh felt putrid, the skin so easily breakable. Maybe detective Tsukauchi was right – he was a walking corpse, immense power stored in an already decomposing body. Not human anymore. Unnatural. Still...

"People with very powerful quirks function instinctively to a greater extent than others and so, even if he had decided upon this young man, Shigaraki, for whatever logical reasons he might have had, my guess is that he was still, on a subconscious level, looking for the right successor."

Now that thought is positively sickening.

"Are you saying... that _I_ was _his right successor_?" Izuku whispers, color draining completely from his already pale face. Was this - in some really fucked up way - _meant to be_?! "But I thought you said there's nothing mystical about it!"

Or maybe this is a test, this man is testing him somehow?!

Fortunately, the other seems to pick up on his discomfort and shakes his head quickly. "No, no, it's nothing as dramatic as that! What I meant to say is… Eh, as anticlimactic as it may sound, it was simply a matter of compatibility."

It's not anticlimactic, it's a joke. A bad, cruel joke.

"Listen, I was told that you used an artificial quirk-inducing substance called _Product X_ , is that right? Ah! To think that it was _All for One_ himself who developed this product, but he never got to see the effects it had on you! If he had, maybe he would have made the connection and this situation would have been avoided. Or not, who knows?"

The teen takes a deep breath – he must make an effort to think logically. Maybe if he does, he'll manage to keep himself above the surface and not sink into the murk of dark thoughts threatening to swallow him.

"Shigaraki did tell me that it works better on people with less powerful quirks, and it did work great for me. But that was just… a drug? Does that apply to…uh, natural quirks as well?"

"Exactly! Despite being just a harmless _anomaly_ , quirkless people are the perfect vessel waiting to be filled, if you want, because there's no other strain of that sort on their system and the absorbed quirk can make full use of their physical resources."

A barely restrained smirk makes the expert's mouth twitch – now it's obvious how pleased he is with this situation. _All for One_ mocked him, arrogantly throwing his own ignorance in his face, only to be fucked like this, finding his end at the hands of a lame quirkless boy with a screw, precisely because he didn't know as much as he thought he did.

Izuku too feels like laughing hysterically, but for different reasons. "This is bullshit…" he mutters with a snort, burying his face in his hands.

"You know, your father too was born quirkless and got that fantastic quirk of his through a simple DNA transfer from his predecessor. In fact, that quirk has been passed between several people in the course of time in the same way, but of course every time the giver willingly intended to pass the gift to their successor. _All for One_ knew that, and planned to do the same with that Shigaraki fellow, but unfortunately for him it seems that his quirk got associated with a history of violence and in the end it was _taken_ , rather than given."

"Okay. I get it."

Normally, he should keep his mouth shut, remain quiet, but considering how bad things already are…fuck it.

"You know what, I think this is a little unfair," the boy points, scowling above the tips of his fingers. "You're all happy that _All for One_ was thwarted, I get it, it's so fucking great! But if he was so evil and if he was a walking corpse anyway, why the hell did you wait for me to deal with him, and at the expense of-… Just what the fuck am I supposed to do with this now?! I don't want this fucking quirk! I don't think it's interesting, or exciting, or whatever the fuck you think it is! And how do I even know that it won't end up controlling me?!"

His hands fly to his mouth as he curls up defensively in his seat, shaking his head. He's in enough trouble already and this rude outburst will more than likely not be appreciated. FUCK! Why couldn't he stay silent?! Fuck!

The other stands from his seat, perfectly composed, and walks up to his chair, laying an unexpectedly gentle hand on the teen's shoulder. "I know you are scared, but don't worry, I will help you," he says, before leaning in to whisper in Izuku's ear. "But as for the last question, ask yourself if it really was _Product X_ controlling you when you kicked Endeavor through that shop window or you did it because you could and you wanted to."


	12. All for One (part 2)

_**Chapter 11- All for One (part 2)**_

Hello everyone! Looks like I finally managed to come up with the last chapter of this fic :) I will be adding the epilogue I kept ranting about as a separate chap, and it won't be long until it's up since I've written most of it already. Love you guys and thank you all so much for the support you've given this bullshit story. Enjoy!

* * *

Another week passes, bringing with it some changes.

Since he's feeling better, Izuku is assigned to kitchen and laundry duty, a privilege only a few of the less dangerous inmates are granted, although if armed guards keep a keen eye on them at all times and they're strictly forbidden from communicating with one another. Even the work instructions they receive are kept to a minimum by the prison staff and it's obvious that the _All for One_ incident has left everyone feeling on edge. For the 'free' time between daily tasks and activities, he's been given a tablet with a rather limited selection of books to read, but at least it's better than nothing, it's enough to keep his mind from other things.

Aside from that, there are also the regular sessions with the quirk expert, which despite their obvious usefulness the teen can't bring himself to look forward to in any way. The man – who hasn't given as much as his name – is far gentler than the rest of the people Izuku comes into contact with these days, but there's an innate creepiness to his person which is hard to ignore. The expert is ever patient, ever composed and nothing seems to take him by surprise or catch him unprepared. That and the always calm gaze of his golden eyes strangely remind the boy of Himiko - although it hardly makes any sense – and it causes a distant, dull ache in his chest, but one which is present nevertheless. Still, he's trying to focus on how the man is helping him explore _All for One_ and how _not_ to use it – one of the more immediate benefits being the ability to tune out the others' thoughts. Izuku may still be picking their vibe involuntarily, but at least their minds remain closed – there's nothing good to be found there anyway.

Especially, he doesn't want to know what the other inmates are thinking about this, because he's aware that despite tightened security the occurrence has become public knowledge among them. One glance around the cafeteria during lunchtime is enough to prove that they _know_ he killed _All for One_ and took his quirk, so whatever their feelings may be, at least they are bound to keep a safe distance.

Izuku hasn't been outside since they arrested him and brought him here, so when the guards come to escort him in the prison's inner courtyard for the first time, the rush of cold air is almost dizzying. The teen is shivering even with the jacket he was given to wear over the thin standard jumpsuit and the sight of the large, empty concrete square surrounded by high walls and barbed wire makes him flinch.

There are a few low, backless benches scattered along the bare walls of the enclosure and All Might is sitting casually on one of them, a light trench-coat draped over his shoulders over the trademark brown suit, despite the chill. He looks calm, even smiling lightly, reassuringly, but Izuku can feel it's hardly the case as he walks up to his father and sits beside him shyly.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Dad," the boy replies to the blond's greeting, a bit uncomfortable with the new word he's still getting used to.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale," All Might says, reaching out to brush his knuckles against Izuku's cheek ever-so-gently, his big hand a tad clumsy and seemingly intimidated by how fragile his son is in comparison. "Do you get enough sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah, I-… The quirk expert is keeping a close eye on my schedule and diet and stuff like that. I mean, aside from the sessions."

The pro hero fidgets, pulling something out of his trench-coat pocket. "Here, I brought you these, he said they'll help with your anxiety and well… since they can't hurt you anymore I guess it's okay." It turns out to be a pack of cigarettes and he gives it to Izuku, along with a cheap plastic lighter. "I don't know if they'll let you keep them, but… at any rate, your Mom would kill me if she knew…" he adds as the teen stares in complete surprise at the pack for a long moment before digging in with a muttered 'thanks'.

"By the way," the blond goes on, clearing his throat as the boy lights up a cigarette and takes a long, eager drag. "I didn't tell her yet about this whole thing with _All for One_ … She will have to be told eventually, but for now it would only worry her and make her think you're not safe here."

Izuku nods slowly, blowing out smoke. Goodness, he needed it so badly! "Yeah… I guess she's upset enough as it is."

He knows he should feel guiltier about this, about what both All Might and his mother are feeling and this shit he's made them go through, but… This is it. If only he had been stronger, _they_ wouldn't have driven him up that bridge. But then, he wouldn't have met Himiko and wouldn't have lived the happiest days of his life. And his worst. In the end, there are no clean-cut conclusions he can draw, not yet.

"Yeah. Anyway, we went to talk to the judge about your trial," All Might says next, and at first Izuku doesn't even understand what his father is talking about.

 _Right, there's going to be that…_ He's forgotten all about it, gave no thought to the future whatsoever. Is there still such a thing? In this place time doesn't seem to pass like it did outside.

"I'm afraid the news isn't that good, you're looking at five years in here, maybe four if they decide that your behavior is exemplary, but that's a tad farfetched from what we understood."

"Five years," the teen repeats absently, examining the flickering butt between his fingers. "And then what?"

"Well… then we'll see what we can do about your school, since you'll be missing all this time and-"

Izuku flinches, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands. "No, I mean… do you really think they'll let me out of here? Like _ever_?!"

The pro hero's thick eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Izuku, you've done some bad things, but five years is long enough and it's only because of what happened with Endeavor and Kamui Woods. And this is a high security prison, it's a severe enough punishment."

Well, yeah. But for now this is just a routine he's gotten used to, somehow, and such a long time span is momentarily out of his reach to ponder on. As for life _outside_ …

"But I mean, um… after this thing with _All for One_ … what if they decide I'm too much of a hazard to be released?"

 _After all, there are no guarantees. I am learning not to use it, this power, but I_ could _use it. The expert said it himself "Think of this quirk as a kitchen knife – you could cut your steak with it or slice someone's throat. In itself it has no one meaning, the choice is yours." But this still implies_ some _use._

He could use it, for example, to get a good job when he gets out, despite having a criminal record. Or he could manipulate someone into having a relationship. He shouldn't though, he shouldn't use it at all because _All for One_ is essentially a manipulative and destructive instrument and not even the expert has suggested that it could have any positive purpose. It's a quirk fit for a villain, _All for One_ made it that way.

"Well, I imagine you'll still be kept under permanent surveillance afterwards," the pro hero says with a sigh, shoulders hunching a bit. "But it shouldn't be a problem or too much of a hindrance…"

There's something he's leaving out of this, because he doesn't want to dampen the teen's spirits any further, but Izuku already knows – once someone has been officially labeled a villain, they can only be considered a 'reformed villain' at best afterwards, and that is enough of a stigma. Ironically though, it's still not as bad as having a weak quirk or being quirkless for that matter.

"It's going to be alright, Izuku."

The blond pulls him closer, against his strong body, and the boy leans into the welcoming warmth, tears stinging his nostrils before he feels them pricking his eyelids. All Might loves him, and the thought is heartbreaking.

"Dad… I think, uh… that you should not…" Izuku struggles with his words, so that doesn't sound like rejection, "I mean if you come at the trial all this shit might leak out, you know? And I don't want… uh, I mean there's no reason for you to be dragged into the mess _I_ made alone. I know that you somehow think it's your fault and your responsibility, but it really isn't. You didn't raise me, you didn't even know I existed until very recently. It was I who made some bad choices, so it's… it's my fuck-up, okay?" he mumbles, crushing the butt under his thumb against the side of the bench, next to a dry chewing gum.

For a while his father is silent, still holding him, mulling over the words which now hang heavily in the air between them, already bitterly regretted. All Might is upset, he can feel it. Eventually, the pro hero's fingers find their way into the boy's hair, treading gently through the messy dark green strands as he sighs again.

"Izuku, I will tell you why I feel responsible, and that's not to say that you don't have your own responsibility in what happened. First, I was actually born quirkless too, so most likely you take after me. Second – and most important – after I got my quirk, which was passed to me by my mentor, I… _forgot_. In my day quirkless people weren't as rare as they are presently, but it still was a severe shortcoming. I did well in school, same as you, I did everything I was supposed to but nothing mattered – I'd still be mocked, laughed at, frowned at, pushed aside. When I became a pro hero I forgot all that, I just left it behind and never looked back. I only wanted to do good, I did not seek celebrity but enjoyed it when it came and I inadvertently contributed to the twisted, glamour and quirk-obsessed society in which we live today. I knew that people like your mother, who only have a weak, unspectacular quirk can only have access to poorly paid jobs regardless of their capabilities, but I chose to disregard how unfair it is, this and many other say there's no reason for me to be dragged into this mess, but there is. This is my wake-up call, even if it came this late."

Izuku bites his lip, scowling – in all the years he spent obsessing over heroes and All Might above all others it never occurred to him to blame the man for the way he was being treated, and not only because he was just a child, incapable of understanding the ways of the world, but because there was no reason to. The pro hero may have forgotten his quirkless past, but anyone would have done the same in his place and he was only doing his job, wanting to help, to protect everyone, his reasoning now is all the more proof of his undeniable human quality. He is nothing like Endeavor and unfortunately, he'll pay the price – instead of trying to keep the mess of having a quirkless, villain love child under wraps he will step up, probably speak up too, his public image will be affected and that flame bastard will profit from it. Fuck!

"Listen, son," the blond says, this time in a lower, more cautious voice. "You saw what happened the other day, during your interrogation… Even if it's not public yet, in my last fight with _All for One_ I suffered a grave injury from which I could not recover fully and my body will not be able to sustain my quirk for much longer. Soon I will have to pass my quirk to a successor – like my mentor did with me - and retire anyway. So, don't worry about me, okay? I want to make a difference while I still can."

"But-…" the boy pulls away to look up at him. "Fuck! I mean, w-what will happen when you pass your quirk to someone else?! Fuck, it's much too soon, it's-"

"Izuku, you say the F word too much," All Might points with a small smile. "I'm not going to die, I'll just be an ordinary person again, _quirkless_ even and … who knows, if I'm not in the spotlight anymore, maybe your Mom will have me back."


	13. Epilogue

Okay, this is one open-ended mess. I don't know what else to say, but I had fun writing it. Enjoy ;)

* * *

 _(5 years later)_

"We just got an email from boss, did you see it, Izu?" a pink-haired girl called Mei shouts from her desk, followed by a crashing sound as she shoves some of the equipment pieces scattered around on the tabletop down on the floor to make some space.

Izuku turns to peer inside the office, shaking his head as he does so. "Nope, I've been out here," he says, showing her the half-smoked cigarette. "Also fuck it, I'm on my break now," he adds with a cheeky grin.

" _I_ 've seen it alright," another boy grumbles, standing from his desk with an irritated air and walking up to join his co-worker out on the small balcony. "As if it wasn't bad enough that it's Monday and we already have a shit-ton of stuff to do this week," he adds, plucking the cigarette from between Izuku's fingers and taking a long drag. "I'm seriously thinking of disappearing for a little bit, until they're gone."

"Nobody's going anywhere, Neito!" Mei scolds the blond.

"What's going on?"

"Well, it says that three of the top tier pro heroes are gonna pay us a visit in about an hour or so. It seems they'll need some costume design adjustments," Mei explains.

"But I thought that top tier pro heroes design their own costumes?"

The obscure, side designing department Izuku works for only does design and fitting work for sidekicks and B list pro heroes no one has heard about. There is a lot to do, the pay is shit, but this is the best of the relatively few jobs the Government made available for the so-called 'reformed' villains and he was able to pass the technical design courses needed for it. Izuku is mostly okay with it despite the downsides, because it's nothing he can't handle and two of his co-workers happen to be his own age and they get along great. Ironically enough, both Mei Hatsume and Neito Monoma went to U.A., but ended up doing time and being labelled as villains. Mei – who was in the school's support department - was eventually caught selling her own-design equipment on the black market in the final year, while Monoma, originally in the hero course, bombed it after only one year, sick and tired of what he described as the 'elitist bullshit' going on there. Since he has a copycat quirk, he thought of moving from people's quirks to their belongings, his intended hero name 'Phantom Thief' turning out to be very fitting for his new line of business.

"They do, that's why they look so ridiculous," the blue-eyed blond explains with a dramatic eye roll.

"Don't worry, it's not your wife, not today," Mei laughs.

"Itsuka is not my wife! We're not even dating exclusively!"

"Yeah, but she's the one who beats you every day."

"She didn't beat me yesterday."

Izuku ignores his friends' banter, finishing the cigarette he snatched back from Neito and flicking away the butt before he gets back to his own desk and plops into the worn seat with a sigh. "So, who's coming then?" he asks, waiting for the computer screen to light up anew.

"Ground Zero, Red Riot and Uravity."

"I really need to disappear!" the blond whines. " _He_ 's gonna pick on us, Mei, you know he will! And I swear that if he does, I'll steal his quirk again and blow up his fucking face!"

In reply, the girl only graces him with a bored stare. "You're not blowing anything up near my equipment," she says dryly.

Little do they know that Izuku is actually the one in most need of disappearing right now. He hasn't seen Kacchan again after that fateful day when he put the guns in the explosive blond's face, but that's not something the other has forgotten about, he's sure of it. _Or forgiven, for that matter._ But Kacchan is not a kid anymore, maybe he will act reasonably this time, after all Izuku did four years and a half in a high security villain prison for his sins, so the pro hero's wrath should have been appeased. _Yeah, fat chance of that…_

"Izu? Are you okay?" Mei asks suddenly and he realizes that all color must have drained from his face.

"What? Oh, yeah… uh, I didn't sleep too well last night." That's somewhat true, _All for One_ requires more sleep that he's getting on a regular basis, but now aside from the usual fatigue a headache begins to creep in anticipation. "Who's Uravity?" he asks, in a futile attempt to distract himself from what's coming.

"Fuck knows," Neito grumbles petulantly, fidgeting in his chair.

Struggling to feign indifference, Izuku picks up his phone and proceeds to access the official page of everything pro heroes-related, absently running a hand through his green and black hair. He keeps it a tad shorter these days and styled with a side parting, with random strands dyed black. He didn't care much about his appearance before coming here, but Mei – who always wears plenty of make-up and a _very_ deep cleavage – convinced both boys that since they'll never really escape the villain brand, they should at least not disappoint and adopt the appropriate aesthetics.

For a while he simply wastes his time mindlessly scrolling down Uravity's profile and info and going over the brief description of her combat costume, but mostly unable to process anything.

* * *

"Don't worry, I went through the files of these failed villain wannabes, there's no danger with them!" a booming and very familiar voice resounds in the hallway outside, and Izuku fights back a violent flinch, masking it with a deep breath.

He tells himself that he totally doesn't have to go through this bullshit – he could use _All for One_ just a little bit, to make Bakugo forget about him, right? No one would know, no harm done. No, fuck, someone might find out and then he'll be in hella trouble. No, this is it, he's fucked. At least any injury will heal quickly.

"Fuck my life…" Monoma whines, chewing on his knuckles. He looks ready to dive under his desk.

A few moments later the door opens widely but Izuku remains motionless, chin resting casually in the heel of his palm as if he wasn't frozen in horror, his eyes still glued to the screen of his phone.

"Hey, Mei!" a cheerful voice greets, dissipating some of the bad vibe. Red Riot.

"'Sup, Eijiro?" the equipment expert replies with a large smile, sitting up and straightening her back. "What can we do for you guys?"

Aside from this, it's much too quiet, suspiciously so, and Izuku still doesn't look up aside from a furtive glance towards Monoma's desk, which is closest to the door. Only Neito isn't there, the bastard has disappeared at the last second.

"They need some help with their costumes, I just tagged along because I was free and I wanted to see you," the red-haired pro hero explains, making Mei giggle.

"I thought Monoma was supposed to be here too?" the voice from earlier grumbles, not as hostile as he's expected but not exactly friendly either.

"He's under his desk, but please leave him there," Mei divulges mercilessly. "So, what's the problem?" She walks out from behind her own desk, keen on examining Bakugo's equipment. "Is there some kind of technical issue? Because the design itself looks pretty good to me and-"

But then Izuku feels eyes on him and his head jerks up, tuning out the rest of the others' conversation, suddenly faced with the third pro hero in the room. Uravity – _Ochako Uraraka_ as per the site info – is small and plump, with large chocolaty eyes and hair styled in a cute bob. She's really pretty and a light smile plays on her rosy lips as she looks down at his surprised face and then at the phone in his hand, the lit screen showing her official profile picture in full (he even tapped to make it full size). _Fuck._ Biting his bottom lip awkwardly, the boy stands up, tucking a rebel strand behind his ear, letting Uravity's gaze to trail in a bit of awe over his _Quirkless_ tattoo as he puts the phone away and clears his throat.

"Uh… what can I help you with?"

The girl fidgets a little, deep brown eyes meeting dark green a bit shyly before she points at her combat costume. "Well, all the accessories are designed to press my acupuncture points, aside from the shock-absorbing footwear… But I wasn't very specific in my initial design request and the rest came out a bit too tight for comfort. I was wondering if, I mean, I could use some suggestions in that department, I guess."

"Sure, I'll take a look."

"Um, what's with that tattoo on your neck? Are you really quirkless?" Uravity asks tentatively as Izuku moves closer and proceeds to examine her wrist equipment with a black-nailed hand.

"Yes, I am. Quirkless. Do you have the technical specifications with you?"

"Yeah, I've got them right here!" The brunette pulls out her phone and thumbs it quickly. "But then… are you a villain too? Even if you're quirkless?" she questions in a low voice, not meeting his gaze this time.

"Oh yeah, believe it or not, _Deku_ here pulled off this seemingly impossible feat… But I didn't know you like to flirt with villains, Uraraka…"

"S-Shut up, Katsuki-" the girl scolds the blond who now pushes past her to get in Izuku's face, an ominous grin on his face.

"Isn't that right, _Deku_?!"

 _Oh, fuck it_! Izuku pulls back against the shelves behind him, green eyes widening and an odd gleam sweeping over their surface for the briefest moment. _You don't hate me, Kacchan. You like me._ One hand covers his mouth nervously as Ground Zero halts his advance, frozen in mid-movement with a scowl as _All for One_ 'rewires' his thoughts and blinking a couple of times before his body relaxes visibly. The malicious grin melts into a light, out-of-character smile and Izuku cringes inwardly, fearing he's made it worse – after all, it's the first time he ever tried something like that with someone.

"Anyway, Deku's quirkless ass is mine so back off, _pink cheeks_ ," Bakugo says, reaching forward and completely oblivious to the other boy's flinch when he grips his wrist with a gloved hand. "I need you help too, nerd," the blond goes on to say, pulling him closer and smile never faltering as red eyes trail appreciatively over his childhood friend's black-and-white striped shirt and skinny, ripped black jeans.

"Y-Yeah?"

 _Okay, this isn't disturbing at all. Fuck._ He was right – this IS worse! And he didn't even really mean it _that way_! How long is the effect going to last anyway?! _Great. Just fucking great!_ Past Ground Zero's shoulder, Izuku sees Neito creeping from behind his desk on all fours before making a soundless dash out the door.

"Actually, some little kid on the street laughed at his costume," Red Riot interferes chuckling.

"Shut the hell up, shitty hair!" Bakugo growls, doing nothing to dampen the other's amusement. "So, it looks like we both need some new design ideas and Mei says you're the best," he goes on, finally releasing Izuku's wrist. "Can you do that, say, by Wednesday evening?"

The designer nods quickly, using the side of his desk as support. "I will need your sfp-.. uh, specifications too." _Fuck..._

Fortunately Mei steps in to ask some technical details, distracting Ground Zero, and Izuku finally collapses back in his chair, feeling physically exhausted. As he does so, he notices Uravity discreetly replacing his own phone back on the desk, with an air of complete innocence.

"Well, I guess that does it, we'll see you again on Wednesday," the blond concludes. "Oh, And Deku? You and I have a lot of _catching up_ to do..." he adds with a devious smirk, winking.

 **THE END**


End file.
